My Love, My Enemy
by Noirreigne
Summary: Forced into an arranged marriage by Queen Victoria, Duke Charles Bass was determined to make his new wife miserable. What he didn’t count on was falling in love with her. In a gamble for her heart he will do anything to woo and win her. B/C Historical
1. Chapter 1

Lord Bass was bored. It had been a long and tedious evening at Buckingham Palace. As Queen Victoria rose and gave her hand to the Prince Consort, Chuck barely managed to stifle a yawn. His mind briefly wandered to the evening he had planned with his current mistress and he couldn't help the devilish smirk that crossed his lips. After having purchased the little minx her desired sapphire necklace he fully expected to be repaid in the most lascivious ways. Perhaps another night or two in her arms and then he would give her a nice dismissal gift of a matching pair of sapphire earrings or perhaps a bracelet to ensure there would be no distressing scene. He never kept a mistress longer then a month or two at the most. There were too many delectable ladies to be sampled and explored for him to ever remain faithful to one. Already his eye was starting to wander to the many married and unmarried ladies present as he searched out another to take his current mistress's place. It wouldn't be hard tofind a replacement. Chuck Bass, Duke of Devon, was one of the wealthiest and most gossiped about gentlemen in all of England. Known throughout all of London as a rake, he was the type of man anxious mothers kept far from their virgin daughters and married women eagerly sought to bed.

Restless for the evening to end, Chuck almost sighed with relief when the Queen began her slow, dignified exit of the throne room. He wondered how anyone could possibly enjoy these stiff and drawn out ceremonials. If it weren't for his title and his need to be in the good graces of the court he would have forgone the evening for the more pleasurable delights to be found in the bedchamber.

As the Queen got closer there was the flutter of silk, satin and tulle as the ladies swept to the ground in low curtseys. Chuck waited his turn to bow as the Queen stopped to talk to the prime minister. It would soon be over now, Chuck thought and he felt a sudden craving for a glass of scotch and a breath of fresh air. It had been a long and tedious night dancing attendance to her Majesty. Only the Queen could have found the evening's staid socialization and stiff formality entertaining.

At last the royal procession was on the move again and there was the sparkle of orders and decorations as masculine heads bowed. Chuck got ready to bow and then realized to his own surprise the Queen was about to speak to him.

Chuck looked down at her. It was amazing how such a tiny woman could manage to exude such an aura of dignity. It was impossible not to be in awe of her. Tonight she seemed happy, her eyes were dancing gaily and her mouth was spread in a wide grin. Regarding the Queen warily, Chuck knew better then to assume anything where she was concerned. He had often seen those same bright eyes darken in affronted obstinacy and her mouth set into a steely line within seconds. When that happened it was best to be as far away from the royal person as possible.

"It is nice to see you here, Lord Bass," her Majesty said in her clear, overly-modulated voice.

"I thank you, Your Majesty," Chuck murmured.

"We have not seem much of you lately," the Queen said disapprovingly, a small frown furrowing her brow. "When you come again, we shall be glad to welcome at your side, a wife."

Chuck had no reply ready and for the first time his always-clever tongue was silent. He was so astonished that for a moment he thought he could not have heard right. Holding out her hand for the Earl to kiss, the Queen smiled at him primly then before he could respond, her Majesty passed on. The rippling wave of curtseying women and bowing men continued on down the room.

Sir Bass stood very still as if paralyzed. His brain halted, all thought ceasing, as he tried to take in the full import of what the Queen had said. The sound of the doors being flung open by the red liveried servants for her Majesty and the sounds of the royal procession passing by finally restored his scattered senses.

White as a sheet he turned to leave only to find himself face to face with the Prime Minister, Sir Grenville.

"As you might have guessed, your Lordship, her Majesty wishes you to marry with all possible haste," the man said stiffly.

"I gathered that," Chuck said mockingly. "The question is,why?"

The Prime Minister cleared his throat uncomfortably andpulling out his silk handkerchief he wiped his now sweating brow. "Talk of your romantic entanglements has reached the ears of her Majesty and she does not approve. The kind of behavior and licentiousness that occurred under her uncle's rule will not pass under hers. The Queen feels that with her marriage the empire should embrace a new age of respectability and matrimony."

"So I am to play guinea pig to the Queen and her principles of morality?" Chuck asked dangerously under his breath.

Staring Chuck directly in the eye the Prime Minister did not flinch. "You understand the situation perfectly."

"Damnation!" Chuck cursed, running his fingers wildly through his hair. "Why can't the Queen choose another Lord to be made an example of?"

"Certainly you realize that a man with your rakish reputation choosing the respectability to be found in matrimony can only be seen as a feather in the Queen's cap." Sir Grenville gave Chuck a baleful look. "You have only yourself to blame. This is entirely due to your own indiscretions."

"I have been nothing but circumspect and discreet in my affairs," Chuck replied angrily.

"The gossip begs to differ. The numerous numbers of mistresses you have taken among both the highborn members of the court and those of the lower social classes has caused enough comment to reach the Queen's ears. Society holds its collected breath to see whom you shall pick next. Then there is the talk of the gifts, the jewelry that would fund a small country and the way your paramours flaunt it like badges of honor in public," the prime minister explained as kindly as he could.

Chuck grimaced with annoyance. This was so unexpected, something he had never anticipated would happen. Yet now that it had occurred he knew that it had been absurd and arrogant on his part to think that people did not talk and spy on his private life. He lived in the public eye, his money and his companies kept him constantly in the news. Why would it be any different with his romantic entanglements? They were in his eyes, business transactions anyway.

It was not surprising the Queen would know his private life. There was little she did not know. She had her own method of learning the most hidden secrets about people whom she was concerned. And yet he had imagined himself tooclever and unimportant for her to care about only to be publicly called out on his behavior. More than that, he knew that he had received a direct instruction, which he dared not disobey

"Does the Queen have a candidate already in mind? Someone perhaps she has already found morally circumspect?" Chuck asked sarcastically.

For the first time the Prime Minister appeared nervous. Once more clearing his throat he leaned in close so not to be over heard. "Her Majesty feels that one of her distant cousins, Lady Waldorf, would make a most excellent match."

Lord Bass frowned, the angles of his face darkening in anger. "I see. Perhaps Her Majesty would like to lead me to the marriage bed as well?

"Your Lordship, I hardly think that is appropriate," Sir Grenville hissed.

"Perhaps not, but you haven't just been commanded to marry one of the Queen's numerous relations. No doubt the poor girl is so hideous she can't find a husband so she is being fobbed off on me."

Sir Grenville bristled, his anger evident in the stiff lines of his body. "Lady Waldorf is a lovely young women."

"Loyal to the Queen still? You can be honest. Does she have a hunchback? A pug nose? Or perhaps she is not all there mentally?" Chuck asked scornfully.

The prime minister shook his head firmly. "No, none of that, my Lord." He hesitated for a moment, clearly considering his thoughts before continuing. "If she has any faults at all it would be perhaps an impetuous tongue."

Chuck nodded slowly, comprehension dawning across his face. "A harridan of a female then? Probably outspoken as well. Then why doesn't she find her own damn husband?"

"Her parents have entrusted her the Queen with finding her a suitable husband."

"And it appears I am it. The sacrificial lamb." Chuck said dryly, dissatisfaction inherent in his tone.

Sir Grenville looked at the floor, avoiding Chuck's eyes. "Yes, My Lord. Would you like to meet the young lady?" he asked politely.

"Why?" Chuck sneered. "It doesn't matter if we are to be wed anyway. Meeting on our wedding night is more then soon enough. I don't suppose the Queen will need to be present when we consummate our marriage? To ensure the deed is done and we are properly married?"

"My Lord! Hold your tongue! This is the Queen you are speaking about," he exclaimed, his mouth falling open with shock.

Chuck regarded the Prime Minister through bored and jaded eyes. "Inform me when it has been decided where and when this blessed event is to take place and I will be there, but do not expect me to change my lifestyle in the slightest before then." With those final words, Lord Chuck Bass, Duke of Devon, turned his back on the Prime Minister and strode towards the doors of the throne room.

The murmurs and gossip which had until then been held to a quiet drone now burst into a violent buzz. Chuck looked neither to the left or the right as he made his escape. He ignored the friends that hailed him and the ladies that attempted to catch his eye with their bold glances. He did not want to stop for even a second, knowing he would be bombarded with questions. What had the Queen meant? Was he already betrothed? Who was the fortunate lady? All of society would know soon enough and he was not about to waste a minute on explanations when he had a mistress waiting. There was something forbidden in the expression on his face which made those that were already approaching him shrink back in fear.

Striding quickly from the throne room he passed the green drawing room where the refreshments were laid out and down the wide scarlet crimson-carpeted stairs where the guards were. He head his name called once or twice, but he ignored it. He was indifferent to everything but the desire to escape. Oblivious to the crowds that surrounded the courtyard, he waited for his carriage to be brought around. Dressed immaculately in a black tuxedo with a hint of purple in his corner pocket he was obviously a person of interest to those who had waited outside all night for a glimpse of her Majesty and the nobility. It wasn't his clothes that made the people stare at Chuck. It was the way he carried himself, the smirk that was ever present in the corner of his mouth and the devil in his eyes. He was handsome enough, but it wasn't his looks that stood out among those who met him. Suddenly made aware of who he was by someone that recognized his profile from the numerous newspapers that had featured his photo, the crowd broke into excited gossip. The young women preened and smoothed their hair and the men cast envious eyes at the Lord who could have whoever and whatever he wanted.

As he waited for his carriage, Chuck ignored the crowd. He knew that as he left the throne room his name was on everyone's lips and his impending marriage was all the bored ton would be able to talk about. There would be rumors of a hidden engagement, perhaps even a secret marriage. Rumors of every kind would be rampant by morning, but only he and the prime minister would understand exactly what the Queen had meant by her words. He couldn't believe after all this time of doing his best to avoid matrimony and its stifling bonds he was now being forced into an arranged marriage with one of the Queen's cousins.

If he wasn't so angry he might have admired the Queen and her insidious manipulation. He had often laughed in the past when her interfering had been aimed at his friends and acquaintances, but now that her attention was turned to him all he could do was curse her. Climbing into his carriage with an oath on his lips he swore he would make his new wife's life as miserable as she was making his.

* * *

As soon as Blair entered the drawing room to see her parents she sensed something was unusual. The very atmosphere had changed and she felt shivers of apprehension break out across her spine. Her mother was seated on a plush velvet settee with her embroidery and her father stood by the fireplace, his hands thrust in his pockets. Smoothing the folds of her cherry red striped silk gown,she curtsied first to her mother and then her father.

"Good afternoon, Blair," her father greeted her, his tone solemn.

Blair peeped up at him through her eyelashes nervously. Her fun loving father who loved to tease her had seemingly disappeared, replaced by a stranger she did not know.

"Did you enjoy your lunch with Lady Serena?" Eleanor Waldorf asked as she pursed her lips over her intricate embroidery.

"Yes, Mother," Blair replied, looking from her father to her mother with confusion.

"Such a lovely young lady," her Mother stated approvingly.

Blair tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Her mother's preference and favoritism towards her friend,Serena, was something she had learned to deal with. Blonde haired,blue eyed and extremely accomplished at everything she did, Lady Serena was everything her mother admired. Blair had long ago accepted that while she could embroider, paint, play piano and sing like all the other ladies of her acquaintance, Serena would always do it better.

Harold Waldorf cleared his throat, looking down at Blair with an almost wistful look. "The Queen sent for me this morning," he said gruffly as if to hide his emotions.

Blair drew in her breath. Suddenly things were starting to make sense. It was true then what she had felt; something was different, something had happened.

"Sit down, Blair. Your father has something to tell you," her mother said primly.

Seating herself in one of the straight hard-backed chairs, Blair bit the inside of her lip to try and stay calm.

"What is it, Father?" she asked.

Harold walked over to her and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. "As you can imagine the Queen was quite busy this morning, but she managed to spare me a few minutes.

"Heavens, Harold. Just tell her," Eleanor said with irritation.

"I am getting there, Eleanor," her father replied shortly, casting a look of annoyance at his wife.

Blair hastened to think of something to add to the conversation as she knew how easily her parents could become sidetracked into turning every conversation into an argument about themselves. The Waldorf's marriage was not an easy one. Arranged by their parents they had spent most of their married life trying to make the best of a bad situation.

"What did the Queen want to see you about?" Blair asked quickly before her parents could start arguing.

"That is just what I was about to tell you," her father said avoiding his daughter's eyes. "The Queen informed me that she has decided, now that you are nineteen, to arrange your marriage."

Whatever Blair had expected to hear it was certainly not that. Her eyes widened and for a moment she was very still.

"Why should the Queen arrange my marriage? There is no reason for her to do so. I am to have a season in London this fall," Blair said with fear in her voice.

"You forget the Queen is very fond of your mother. Not only are they distant cousins, they went to school together. It is only natural she would take an interest in you" her father said apologetically.

Blair turned angry eyes to her mother. "You promised me a season. A chance to meet eligible gentlemen and make my own choice of husband. "

"It is an honor her Majesty should think of you," Eleanor said looking down her nose in disapproval at her willful daughter.

"You can tell the Queen I have no intention of being made her puppet in some dynastic plans for the empire. I have not even had a chance for a proper season and already she wants to marry me off to some no doubt disgusting old man."

"It isn't that easy," her father said with a pleading look at her mother.

"You know how we always laughed at the Queen's machinations and manipulations as she married off her sons and daughters in peace making bids with other countries? I won't be another cog in her marriage machine. I am not going to play her game and give it to the highest bidder for my hand," Blair said passionately, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Why do you waste time arguing with her," Eleanor asked sharply. "You know as well as I do she has to do as she is told. We are her parents and she is not of age. Tell her the truth you have already accepted the Duke on her behalf."

"Accepted? Accepted what Duke?" Blair asked shrilly.

"Lord Bass, Duke of Devon," Eleanor said before Blair's father could speak. "You are an extremely lucky girl, so go down on your knees and thank the Queen for giving you as your husband the wealthiest man in all of England.

"It is not true! It cannot be true!" Blair exclaimed. Kneeling before her father, she held out her hands in appeal. "Father, promise me that you won't make me marry Duke Bass."

"It is what the Queen wishes," her father said gently.

"And I know why," Blair said her voice ringing out. "The man is a disgrace to his title.

"What do you know of the Duke," her mother rebuked her.

"I know that he moves from one woman to the next not caring in the least about his reputation. He has mistresses, and to keep them from complaining about him he pays them off with gifts of jewelry. Plus he gives orgies, dozens of them, at his castle." Blair said, her voice trailing off in horror.

"Blair!" her mother shouted. "That is enough!

Harold looked at his daughter in shock. He had no idea she had ever heard of Duke Bass let alone knew what orgies were. "Do you….ahem…know what an orgy is, my dear?" he asked, embarrassedly.

Blair lifted her chin at her father defiantly. "No, but it can't be good the way I hear people talk about it."

"That's the thing, Blair. All it is, is talk," Harold said with relief. "Would you condemn the man before you have met him?" He didn't wait for her answer, as he unfortunately already knew it. "Besides if you marry the Duke the Queen has promised that our title and estates will pass to one of your sons instead of reverting back to the crown. Do you understand the significance of such a gift?"

Blair did and she realized she had lost before the fight even began. Her parent's greatest wish had always been son to carry on the title. To their regret they had only ever had a daughter. Without a son or distant male heir the estate and title would go back to the crown upon her father's death. If she married the Duke her parent's greatest wish would come true. There would be another Earl of Suffolk and it would be of their blood, her son with the Duke. The very thought of it made her ill.

"When I marry it will be for love and no Queen can persuade me otherwise," Blair stated resolutely, rising and storming from the room and with extreme effort refrained from slamming the door.

Blair ran up to her bedroom seething with anger. How dare Queen Victoria think she could order her about like her sons and daughters? The Prince of Wales might shake in his boots because he was afraid of her and the rest might obey her without a single protest, but, Blair told herself, she was different. All the things she had ever heard about Duke Bass came to mind. She was sure the only reason the Queen was forcing this marriage was because no one else would marry the lecherous man. As far as she was concerned the Queen had a surprise coming if she thought Blair would just meekly submit to an arranged marriage with such a monster. As she had told her parents she had long ago decided to marry only for love. She had seen first hand the unhappiness that came from a marriage where the two parties were not in love. Besides her parents she had witnessed enough of her older friends friend's miserable marriages to know the tragedy that came of pushing two people together who hated each other. Sure, they put on a good face in public, smiling as if they had no cares, but she knew in private they cried into their pillows at night.

That shall never happen to me Blair had always thought. While her mother was a close friend with the Queen and they were distantly related, it had never crossed her mind that the Queen would take an interest in who she married. When she thought about it she shouldn't be surprised that the Queen had taken an interest. With the Earldom without an heir Blair had much to offer a suitor, especially if the title would be transferred to her heirs. The Queen had had her hand in most of the royal and titled marriages in the empire so why wouldn't she be involved in hers? Blair hated that she was about to be used like a prized fly in Victoria's web of dynastic marriages.

"I won't be caught," she said aloud to herself.

As she spoke the door opened and her mother entered the room.

"I have come to speak to you," Eleanor said stiffly, smoothing the wrinkles from her dusky blue silk gown.

"There is nothing more to be said," Blair replied haughtily.

That remains to be seen," she answered. "Your behavior has upset your father and me and it won't be tolerated."

"I am sorry I upset Father, but I won't be handed over like a prize pig to that man."

Eleanor smiled unpleasantly. "Have you really given this any thought, Blair?"

"As I have already said I have no intention of being married to someone I do not love. I know your marriage wasn't a love match, but my grandparent's was. Father's mother and father loved each other from the moment they met at sixteen at a ball." Blair's voice deepened as she continued, "They had to wait two years before they were allowed to marry, but neither of them ever looked at anyone else and finally when they were married they were blissfully happy. They died having loved each other with their dying breath."

"That is an exceptional case and you know it. Most girls have an arranged marriage in one way or another and it is usually left to the mother or father to find an eligible suitor. In your case you are lucky the Queen has graciously chosen for us."

"I am aware of that, but I had thought you wished me a different future than yours," Blair said plaintively, looking at her mother with wide, pleading eyes.

Eleanor sighed, "This match is a good one. Charles Bass may be known for sowing some wild oats, but I knew his parents and they were good people. It is inconceivable to me that the qualities I admired in his parents wouldn't be passed down to their son."

"So you are marrying me to a man based on the fact thatyou liked his parents," Blair replied sarcastically.

"No," her mother said coldly, her face hardening. "I am marrying you to him because the Queen sees fit to honor you with this match. I really don't know how you can complain. The Duke is the richest man in the kingdom and you will be a Duchess."

Blair stared at her mother in horror. "Is that all you care about? Money and position?"

"What else is there for a woman?" Eleanor asked grimly. "You are very lucky. With your marriage you will get both.

When Blair did not answer Eleanor softened her voice, putting her hand to rest on Blair's arm. "Don't you see that I want what is best for you?"

"At the cost of my happiness," Blair replied with a small sob.

"We make our own happiness," her mother said with determination.

Blair crossed the room to seat herself at her dressing table. Reaching into the drawer she pulled out one of her linen monogrammed handkerchiefs. Wiping away her tears, she turned to look back at her mother.

"When does this blessed event take place?" Blair asked,her voice laced with steel.

Lady Eleanor slowly smiled. She had known Blair would give in. Because what other options did she have? Like all young girls she was at the mercy of her parents will until she was married and became her husband's responsibility. Blair could either submit or she would be cast out and for a young lady with no money and no work experience there was only one option available. One that would damn her in the eyes of society forever.

"One months time."

Reaching for her hairbrush, Blair's hands shook. "So quickly," she murmured. "Is the Duke really that eager for a virgin? Are they truly as hard to find in London as they say?"

"Blair!" Eleanor exclaimed. Striding to her daughters side she took the brush from her limp hand. Running it through Blair's hair with the long even strokes she knew her daughter loved, she attempted to calm her down. "You will need to learn to watch your tongue when you are a Duchess. People will look to you to set an example."

"Then they should find someone else to play the role of Duchess," Blair replied tartly

"The Queen has chosen you," Eleanor said firmly. "I realize the wedding may seem rushed a bit, but the Queen wishes to be present and she leaves for a tour of India in one months time. She wants to see you safely wed before then."

"So I am to be conveniently fit in between the opening of Parliament and her trip abroad. How nice for her."

Eleanor began twisting her daughters hair up into a chignon, pinning each strand in place one by one as Blair stared morosely at her reflection in the mirror. "Her Majesty has been all that is gracious and you will be wise to remember that when you see her on your wedding day."

"Does he even wish to see me, meet with me before then?" Blair asked wistfully.

Eleanor avoided Blair's eyes. "I have been told the Duke is currently getting his estates in order before the marriage. Apparently they have been allowed to fall a bit into ruin with his father's death.

"I see," Blair replied sharply.

"It is probably for the best," Lady Eleanor offered as pleasantly as possible. "You will have a lifetime of getting to know each other. Take this time to enjoy your last days as Lady Blair Waldorf before the time comes when you are Her Grace, Duchess Blair Bass.

"I fully intend too," Blair said sweetly.

In the weeks that followed her engagement Blair did not find the opportunities she wished for to enjoy her time as Lady Blair Waldorf. There was in fact very little time to get all the things considered necessary for a bride let alone a Duchess. Fortunately the season had not begun yet so the shops in Bonds street and the dressmakers were all too willing to be of service. Especially since Blair's trousseau was being written up in all the city newspapers and it was just good business to be seen as having provided anything for the new Duchess whether it be a fan, a parasol or even a dress. To Blair's chagrin her marriage seemed to have captured the public's fancy and there was not a shop she could go to without it making the evening news.

Blair told herself she was not in the least interested in the clothes she was buying for the man she detested. She had a sudden desire to wear nothing but burlap for her new husband in the hopes that he would never take the slightest interest in her. But because she was a woman she could not help being entranced by the lovely gowns she was offered. It was very hard to play the browbeaten victim card when each gown she tried on was more beautiful on her thanthe last. There were dresses of every color of the rainbow in silk, satin, velvet, tulle and brocade; morning gowns, tea gowns, evening dresses and ball gowns. Then there were the undergarments, lacy and silky things that made Blair blush, many of them embroidered with the tiniest of details like butterflies in flight or nosegays of roses. Blair was kept so busy with the purchase of matching silk stockings, gloves, hats, parasols, fans and handkerchiefs that she barely had time to think about her unhappiness.

Of all the things she purchased and the one most likely to raise suspicion she managed to keep free from the papers. Insisting that it was to be a present for her husband the Duke, she managed to buy a set of handsome dueling pistols. Sneaking them in among the piles of silk stocking she had bought, she managed to keep her purchase unknown from everyone in the household.

The mere thought of her marriage gave her a hollow,tense felling, inside. At night she would lay awake in the darkness,clenching and un-clenching her fists as she imagined the Duke and his wet slobbery lips all over her body. She might have to marry him, but she would ensure with her pistol pointed straight at him that the man would never want to visit her bed.

As soon as the announcement of their marriage had been made, presents began arriving almost hourly. While there were gifts from friends and relations, most of them were from people Blair had never met. Eager to make friends with the new Duchess, society was attempting to outdo itself, every gift more lavish then the last.

"More silver," Blair groaned, as another present was unwrapped. "I can imagine the Duke already has more silver than he could possibly use. Why do people waste their money?"

"You know the answer to that," Lady Eleanor replied. "It is simply because you are going to be a Duchess and a very wealthy one at that. If you were marrying a soldier or some obscure penniless lord they would not bother to send you as much as a letter of congratulations."

Blair recognized the truth of it and couldn't help the small shiver of pleasure that rippled down her spine as she realized the power she would soon wield.

* * *

Thanks to my beta's Shanyde, GossipGirlFanForever and F for their help and encouragement.

Shall I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

"It is a beautiful day, Blair," Eleanor said cheerily, entering her daughter's bedroom. Pulling back the heavy velvet curtains from the windows she added: "I have been told that there is already a crowd at the cathedral waiting to see you in your bridal finery."

Blair rolled over and closed her eyes. Could it really be that the day she had dreaded more than any other was already here? Squeezing her eyes tightly shut she tried to return to the blissful state of sleep she had been in before her mother had entered her bedroom.

Eleanor, as if sensing her daughter's obstinacy, pulled back the silken covers from the bed. Forced by the chill in the air to leave the comfort of her haven, Blair shrugged on a thick satin robe, giving her mother a dark look as she did so. Eleanor, as usual, ignored her daughter, busying herself with a large velvet jewel case that was placed in a prominent place on Blair's vanity table.

"The Duke sent over his family's bridal tiara last night," she offered in an effort to tempt Blair out of her sullen mood.

"Think of all the poor Bass brides who have worn it before me. I wonder how many of them were forced into their marriage?" Blair asked scornfully with a reproachful look at her mother.

"Stop it, Blair" Eleanor rebuked her daughter sharply. "You talk as if we are sending you into marriage with a monster and not one of the finest and richest men in all of the Queen's realm."

Opening the velvet case Eleanor removed the tiara carefully. The diamonds caught the sunlight that streamed through the windows, creating hundreds of colorful rainbows. Reverently appraising the elegant crown, a smile of pleasure crossed her lips at the thought of her daughter possessing such a piece of jewelry.

"It's beautiful," Eleanor cooed, holding the tiara up closer to her eyes to get a better look at the workmanship.

Blair wanted to say something cutting and rude, but the beauty of the headpiece could not be denied. Made of white gold and fashioned with flowers made of diamonds it was exquisite. For a moment her gaze softened as she looked at it only to harden again as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

"This is nothing other than a symbol of the fact that I have been bought and paid for like a common whore," Blair said spitefully.

"Blair!" Eleanor exclaimed, her brow furrowing in anger. Taking in the mulish set of her daughter's features, she tried another tactic. Leading her daughter to the plush chair in front of the vanity she sat her down. Lifting the crown she placed it atop Blair's head gently. "You have never looked lovelier," she said softly, moisture glistened in the corners of her eyes.

Blair blinked at her reflection, the diamonds in the tiara sparkling like stars in her hair. "It is beautiful," she admitted reluctantly.

"I promise you Blair, you will find happiness in this marriage. You will want for nothing."

"Nothing but to be loved for myself," Blair replied bitterly.

"What does love matter when you will have things such as this?" Eleanor asked. "Love means little in this world. Find your happiness elsewhere. You will not regret it."

Blair turned in her seat to study her mother sadly. "Has life been so unhappy for you, Mama, that you would wish me to find comfort in the coldness of diamonds and wealth."

"You will find you can make peace with almost anything if the price is right," she replied lightly, avoiding her daughter's eyes. "Now lets get you dressed, your groom is waiting for you."

"I think more than likely he is awaiting me in the arms of another," Blair said ruefully.

Eleanor didn't bother to answer; instead she cleared her throat and walked to the end of the room, ringing for the maid to carry in Blair's wedding dress.

"It is not unexpected that your husband will seek others for companionship outside your marriage," Eleanor said with a trace of embarrassment in her tone. "I know we have not talked of what duties are expected of a wife, but one must often do things we find unpleasant. I sometimes find that if I focus on my next trip to the dressmakers it makes relations quite bearable."

Looking at her mother in horror, Blair groaned aloud. "Please mother, spare me the wedding night talk. I have heard enough from my older friends to understand the basics." Blair thought of the pistols hidden in the trunk now headed to her new home and she was reassured that her wedding night would consist of nothing but sleep.

Eleanor opened her mouth as if to speak, but was interrupted by Dorota, carrying in the wedding gown. Shedding her robe, Blair stood patiently as she was fitted with several embroidered petticoats and her chemise. Taking a deep breath she allowed Dorota to tighten her corset until her waist spanned the requisite 21 inches. Sitting once more at her vanity chair she drew on her silk stockings tying them with blue satin ribbons. At last it was time for the dress. Eleanor watched with pride as it was lifted over Blair's head. The heavy Brussels lace gown clung to Blair's curves before spilling out in a bell shape around her hips. Faced with her reflection in the mirror, Blair forgot everything but the beauty of the gown. Her fingers slid over the silky lace reverently as Dorota buttoned up the dozens of tiny hooks and eyes that were sewn into the back of the gown.

Overwhelmed by Blair's beauty, Eleanor wiped her eyes with the corner of her handkerchief. She had never seen Blair look lovelier. Walking up behind her daughter she straightened the long train of the dress before reaching for Blair's hairbrush.

"You look so beautiful, Blair," she murmured softly as she combed her daughters curls one last time.

"Thank you, Mama," Blair responded almost sadly. That her mother should finally see her beauty on her wedding day, the most tragic day of her life, did not surprise her.

With trembling hands, Eleanor smoothed her daughter's hair into an up swept hairstyle, pinning it in place with diamond-studded hairpins. Giving Blair an appraising look, Eleanor made sure every hair was perfectly in place before lifting the tiara over her head.

For a moment Blair's head wobbled on her slender neck as she adjusted to the weight of the crown. The tiara lay heavy on her head and Blair swallowed thickly, keeping her tears at bay as she looked at the stranger in the mirror. At last the veil was pinned into place. It was a family heirloom, handed down by all the brides in Blair's family. Falling in front of Blair face's it shrouded her entire view in white. Staring at the white ghost before her, Blair imagined all the brides that had worn the veil and tiara and she wondered if there had ever been one as miserable as her?

Driving towards the cathedral next to her father, Blair looked scornfully at the crowds that had gathered on the street to see her. She could see representatives from all the major newspapers among the gawkers. Knowing that her picture would grace the front page she pasted a tight smile on her face, not for her husband's benefit but for hers. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone knowing the truth of her unhappiness.

"I am very proud of you Blair," Harold said just before they arrived at the cathedral. "I know this is something of an ordeal, but you are carrying it off beautifully."

Just for a moment his words seemed to break through the wall of granite around Blair's heart. Turning to look at her father, Blair felt the prick of tears in her eyes. She had always seen her father as something more than just a man. Her hero, someone capable of the most incredible feats, but today she finally saw him as he was. Just another man, frail and as misguided as any other.

Lord Waldorf smiled at his daughter lovingly. "Don't be nervous. In a short time this will all be over and you and your new husband will be off to your new home."

Blair pressed her hands into the folds of her wedding gown as she uneasily contemplated thoughts of her new home and what it would be like. A wave of nausea swept over her as she realized that she was truly leaving everything familiar and comfortable behind.

Then the trumpeters were sounding their fanfare as they arrived at the cathedral. Letting her father hand her out of the carriage, Blair waited patiently as the ever-attentive Dorota straightened her train and veil. Walking up the steps Blair felt the eyes of the crowd on her as she made her way through the Cathedral's heavy iron doors. Making her way down the aisle she focused her gaze straight ahead, looking neither to the right or the left. Her world out of focus, due to her veil made it very easy to avoid looking at her bridegroom. She felt him standing before her and it took all of her willpower not to turn and run.

The ceremony passed quickly and Blair found her mind wandering and only when the archbishop paused for her to say "I do" did she realize just how far away she had been. At hearing her new husband drawl a very lazy "I do," she found herself for the briefest moment turning to look at him. What she saw surprised her. Not a hideous monster or even the old gray beard she had imagined, the Duke was devastatingly handsome. At that very moment he caught her eye and smirked. The look so infuriated Blair that she immediately and, to his amusement, once more stared straight ahead as if he didn't exist.

At last the rings were exchanged and the ceremony was over. As the Duke of Devon lifted her veil to kiss her, Blair waited until the last minute to coldly turn her head. His lips instead of meeting hers grazed the side of her cheek. With a calculating smile she waited for him to react to her maneuver, but he only chuckled. The low and throaty sound caused her to stiffen and she turned to look at him. Her wide eyes met his dancing ones and she found herself blushing at the openly appraising look he was giving her.

Chuck couldn't believe his new wife had just snubbed his bridal kiss. The whole situation was so surreal he couldn't resist chuckling out loud. From the moment he had seen her proud lithe figure enter the cathedral and walk down the aisle he had known he wasn't dealing with the typical young miss. This lady, his wife, he stopped to consider the words and the strange, almost heady effect they had on him and was surprised at his reaction. He couldn't help but notice his wife was not the ordinary meek, mild mannered young lady he had been expecting. Instead she was filled with fire and spark and clearly had as much love for him as he had for her. For just a moment, gazing at her plump red bow of a mouth he wanted very much to kiss her, a real kiss and not merely the innocent press of lips that was clearly expected from a groom on his wedding day.

Now that he could finally see her without the haze of her veil blinding her features he recognized just how lucky he was. Even though she was currently frowning at him with distaste she was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her eyes were the color of warm whiskey, her lashes long and velvety and her profile as perfect as any of the Grecian statues he had seen on his many travels. As his gaze trailed over her tiny waist and rounded hips, he could feel his body react to hers. Suddenly the chore of consummating his marriage that he had dreaded for weeks now felt very much like a privilege and an honor. He was going to enjoy every moment of introducing this lovely spitfire to the delights that could be found in the bedchamber.

Blair arched an annoyed eyebrow in the direction of her new husband. He seemed impossible to provoke. Taking another look at him she couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be laughing at her. She didn't have time to dwell on this odd event as the Queen was already rising from her pew and making her way towards the couple.

"My child, you make a most lovely bride," the Queen said fondly as she kissed Blair on both cheeks.

Blair dipped into a graceful curtsey as she murmured obediently, "Thank you, your Majesty."

Victoria turned to Chuck and he bowed low before her. "I expect to hear of nothing but your devotion to you new wife from the gossips this day forth."

"Of course, your Majesty," Chuck replied with a small smile. While he had every intention of sampling his new wife, he had no desire to give up his womanizing ways no matter how beautiful his bride was. He just resolved in the future to be much more discreet in his choice of mistresses.

"If you can only find a tenth of the happiness that I have with my dear Albert you shall be truly blessed indeed," the Queen offered before turning to leave.

Curtsying once more, Blair thought to herself that if she ever turned into the type of doting wife the Queen was towards her husband she would stab herself with a letter opener.

Chuck held out his arm and Blair took it reluctantly allowing him to escort her down the aisle and out of the cathedral.

The reception following the wedding passed in no time at all and Blair found it very easy to almost entirely ignore her new husband. Caught up in greeting her guests and playing the role of the new Duchess of Devon left her little time to dwell on her predicament.

Finally it was all over and the couple were seated in the flower festooned carriage and heading for the Bass London residence.

Chuck leaned back lazily in the carriage his eyes taking in the beauty before him that was now his according to law. "Thank God, that display is over."

"That display was our wedding," Blair said frostily.

"So it was," Chuck said with a short laugh. "I am surmising from your lack of willingness to seal our wedding vows with a kiss that our marriage was not of your choice? Perhaps you had another in mind?" Chuck found himself suddenly very interested in her response, part of him quite irrationally hoping that there had been no others.

Blair cast him a look, confused by the sudden bland tone of his voice. She shook her head. "It's nothing like that. I simply do not want a husband, especially not one that has been forced on me.

"Why not?" Chuck asked, even though he understood exactly what she meant. Yet for some reason he could not help being somewhat offended that she did not wish to marry him. He was a Duke, after all, and with his fortune he knew he was quite the catch.

"I refuse to be owned like a piece of furniture, to submit to another man's will. I will not be treated as a vessel for some man's lust!" Blair exclaimed angrily.

"This is the way you see it? You believe that the art of love is nothing more than an act of submission? Chuck eyes lingered over Blair petite and rounded figure lecherously. "I have so much to teach you," he rasped.

Blair flushed, the color rushing to her cheeks. "I hardly believe this is polite conversation."

Chuck pulled her roughly to him, catching her lips in his. It wasn't the sweet and tender kiss of an adoring groom to his bride. It was a passionate, hot, ravaging kiss the kind he had wanted to take from her the second she had denied him his kiss in the cathedral. For several moments she did not resist, too shocked to do anything but part her lips under his onslaught. With a groan he deepened the kiss, pulling her even closer to him. His tongue swept her mouth, claiming her in some way as his.

For a brief moment Blair let him, as her senses reeled and her body melted into his in the most disturbing way. His tongue danced over hers, tantalizing and teasing hers and she felt a glorious flooding of heat through her entire body. Suddenly realizing what she was doing her spine stiffened and her hand lashed out, slapping at him.

"If you wanted to play rough you just had to say so," Chuck said breathlessly, his eyes dark and dilated with passion as the carriage came to an abrupt stop at the Bass home. With a horrified look, Blair practically jumped out of the carriage when the door was opened. Quirking his lips, his eyes dancing with devilry Chuck watched Blair's very attractive backside as she was helped out of the carriage by one of the footmen. Pausing at the carriage door, Chuck contemplated the odd and unusual feelings that coursed through his blood. While he had tasted the most sensual delights that London had to offer, never before had he participated in a kiss that left him breathless and aching for more.

Blair bit back her outrage, her mouth tightening into a small smile as she stepped out of the carriage. Lined up outside the Bass mansion was the entire staff of the stately home. Everyone from the housekeeper to the boot boy was assembled outside to curtsy and bow to the new Duchess. Going down the line of servants she barely had time to remember their names let alone their positions. The Duke followed behind her lazily, his eyes while seemingly bland studied her every move and expression. He had never met anyone quite like this new wife of his. While she was prim and proper and so very stately in public he had glimpsed another side to her with his kiss. In his arms he had seen the fiery passion that lay under the icy surface.

"I expect your ladyship will want to redecorate most of the rooms," the elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, said as she followed Blair up the imposing front stairs of the Bass home. "The house hasn't been refurbished since the death of the last Duchess, the Duke's mother."

"Really..." Blair replied with a pointed look at Chuck. She distinctly remembered having been told by her mother that the reason they were unable to meet before the wedding was due to the Duke's insistence at redecorating. Leaning in to Chuck she whispered low under her breath so only he could hear. "In the future if you must resort to lies, at least make them plausible."

Chuck gave her a slow amused grin. "Only for you would I bother." Reaching for her fingers he placed a gently kiss on the knuckles. One that would from any other man seem romantic, but to Blair it only felt mocking. Giving him a quelling look, Blair snatched her hand from his. Instead of offending Chuck it only served to make him laugh at her expense.

"Your trunks have all arrived and been placed in the Duchess's bedchamber's," the housekeeper continued.

"Thank you," Blair said stiffly, entering the house. What she saw took her breath away. Having been raised in wealth she was used to the finer things in life, but nothing could have prepared her for the magnificence of the Bass home. The three story entryway was done up in Florentine marble, the ceilings painted with pastoral scenes and trimmed with gilt. She was surrounded in opulence. Lifting her chin, she took it all in like a Queen. This was all hers now.

Taking leave of her new husband, she followed Mrs. Miller up the stairs and to her bedroom. The Duchess's bedchambers done up in shades of light blue and white were just as lovely and luxurious as the rest of the house. The focal point of the room was the large bed, carved of dark wood and decorated with drapes embroidered with butterflies; it was so exquisite it looked like something out of a fairytale. As much as she wanted to hate the bed and everything it stood for she found she couldn't look away.

Mrs. Miller cleared her throat and Blair startled, her cheeks flushing bright red at the housekeepers knowing look.

"Shall I un-button your dress, your Grace?"

"Of course," Blair murmured.

Mrs. Miller chatted gaily about the estate and the Duke as she undressed Blair. To Blair's embarrassment she chose one of the delicate almost transparent negligees that Eleanor had picked out in London. There was even a lace wrap to match, which had cost almost as much as an evening gown. It billowed out around Blair's feet and with her dark hair falling over her shoulder she looked almost ethereal.

"Is your Grace not going to get into bed?" the housekeeper questioned in surprise as Blair shrugged the wrap on.

"Not for the moment," Blair replied dryly. "You can leave now Mrs. Miller."

"Yes, of course, Your Grace. Shall I extinguish the candles?"

Slowly taking a turn around the room, Blair tried to take in her surroundings, her new home. "No, leave them. Where does that door lead too," she asked pointed to a paneled door cut into the wood wall."

"That would be the entrance to the Duke's personal bed chambers, and the Ducal breakfast room." Mrs. Miller said slyly.

Blair stiffened as she realized that his Grace was just on the other side of the door, no doubt waiting for his chance to deflower her.

"God Bless, your Grace. May God smile on your union and produce a son and heir to the Devon estates," The housekeeper said with a reverent tone as she took her leave.

Blair waited for the door to shut, before rushing over to the trunk that contained her stockings. Digging through the silk she pulled out a small carved wooden case, opening it she unloaded one of the pearl handled pistols that she had bought in London. Smiling to herself she checked to make sure it was loaded.

If the Duke thought he would get a biddable virgin tonight he was very much mistaken. She had no compunctions shooting the man she had been given to against her will. She would rather die than have him touch her again and arouse all those feeling that left her hot and breathless.

Seating herself down on the stool in front of the vanity her pistol at her side she waited for the Duke. Her eyes never left the communicating door between the bedrooms as she cocked her pistol. Briefly she wondered about all the other Duchess's that had come before her. Had they come to their marriage bed willingly? Had they too been scared? Perhaps torn from another lover who had been forsaken because of the power of a Duke's suit? She told herself scathingly that she would never be one of those meek and mild brides; subservient to her husband's every whim.

If the Duke thought otherwise he was in for a big surprise. It seemed like she waited forever. Then she slowly heard the handle of the door turn and the sound of a step as the Duke entered her bed chamber. She held the pistol down at her side so that it was hidden in the folds of her white dressing gown.

Chuck strode into the room confidently, his dark purple dressing robe grazing the lush carpet. He shut the door behind him, his eyes raking her hungrily, the way her slender figure was silhouetted against the transparency of her negligee. Angered that he should see her this way, her voice rang out harshly. "Why are you here?

"I should have thought that would have been obvious," Chuck replied with a smirk.

"If you think you are welcome in my bedroom you are very much mistaken," she said with a toss of her head.

Chuck would have moved closer to her, but she chose that moment to raise her arm and level her pistol directly at his privates.

Standing very still Chuck regarded his new wife with dancing eyes. This was a situation he had never in his wildest thoughts imagined would happen and it amused him to no end.

Blair looked at him with surprised eyes, she had expected him to rail at her, curse her very presence and threaten her, but instead he looked as if he would burst out laughing at any second. Chin up she glared at him, her pistol never wavering.

"I may have been forced to marry you to bolster your reputation and make you presentable at court. But if you think that you can use me like any of your other many mistresses you are very much mistaken," Blair said spitefully.

"I will treat you as my wife, which is what you are," Chuck answered with a grin. "This means I expect to have you naked and writhing underneath me before this night is over."

"That is something that will never happen, and if you ever want to be able to perform for any of your mistresses again, you would do best to exit that door the way you came," Blair said coldly, her eyes blazing.

"You are my wife, Blair and the law says I may use your body for my pleasure and to ensure the succession," Chuck said with amusement as he moved closer to his bride.

She came at him in anger, the pistol steady in her hand. "Must I make this plainer to you, my Lord. You disgust me and I hate you. If you come one step closer I will shoot you."

"Chuck."

Blair stared at him dumfounded.

"If you are going to shoot me at least call me by my name."

"Fine," Blair snapped. "Chuck, if you touch me I will not hesitate to shoot you. I have no wish to be branded a murderer, which is why I won't kill you, but I will make sure you never have a chance to use your…" she stared directly at his crotch, color flooding her face. "Equipment, again" she finished lamely.

Blair waited for him to advance on her, attempt to wrestle the pistol away from her, but instead to her astonishment he threw his head back and laughed, his laughter echoing throughout the room.

"Quite magnificent! Perhaps the Queen did know what she was thinking when she decided to give you to me," he mused out loud. Considering the lust he suddenly had for his new bride, he was willing to bet this had all been a part of the Queen's plan. Blair fascinated him like no other. She was unique, something entirely special from any women he had ever met, and already he found himself if not falling in love with her at least desiring her more than he had ever desired another women in his life.

Changing tactics he slowly seated himself on the bed, warily watching her trigger finger. "I have never been in love and I never expect to be, but I suddenly find myself wanting you with a passion I have never quite experienced," he said honestly. "Have you ever been in love, Blair?"

Blair stared at him a moment, trying to make coherence of this very odd situation. "No," she said shortly. "And I certainly don't expect to fall in love with the most notorious womanizer in all of London."

"I have always thought my falling in love was an absolute impossibility, but for the first time I have doubts," Chuck said with unusual sincerity.

"Feel free to murder those doubts, because I can guarantee I shall never fall in love with you," Blair spat out.

Chuck smiled slowly, his eyes intently watching every expression that crossed Blair's face. "It appears we are at an impasse." Pausing, Chuck pretended to consider their situation even though he had known from the second he entered the room that he would make her his, no matter what it took. "You are the most fascinating women I have ever meant and because of that I propose a wager."

"A wager," Blair echoed, with a frown.

"I realize a refined lady, a Duchess no less, does not engage in wagers, but staring down the barrel of your gun I believe we can do away with that pretense," Chuck drawled.

"As you so succinctly pointed out I am with the one with the gun and I hardly need a wager to keep you out of my bed."

"You can't keep that gun on your body forever," Chuck said with a smile that didn't quite belie the threat in his tone. "As soon as you fall asleep I shall remove the gun from your possession and then I shall be most interested to see what you shall resort to next to protect your honor."

Blair narrowed her eyes at her new husband. She did not for one moment doubt the authenticity of his statement." What type of wager are you suggesting?" she asked after careful consideration.

"A sort of double wager," he offered. "One that no doubt shall prove most interesting. For my part, that I can make you fall in love with me and on your part you shall try to make me fall in love with you."

Blair laughed out loud, the melodious sound causing Chuck to smile in pleasure. "There is no way on earth you could possibly win that wager. Not if you wooed me for a hundred years."

"The you shall have no problem keeping me from your bed forever. I promise if I lose that I shall never darken your bedroom door again and you shall die with your precious virginity intact."

Eyeing him suspiciously, Blair asked the most important question. "What if you win?"

"Then your body becomes mine to do with as I please," Chuck stared at her intently, his eyes branding every inch of her body, his lust obvious.

"Why make such a wager?" Blair asked uncomfortably. "What do we have to gain if we both win?"

"Then we end up living happily ever after. And trust me when I say this, I know how to make you very happy indeed, " he said with a devastatingly handsome smile that had Blair's heart suddenly hammering in her chest.

Blair drew back her head accusingly, "You have already tried to seduce me once and it did not work then. Why do you think you shall fare any better this time? "

"Ah, but you seduced me back in the carriage; those full-pouting lips that begged to be kissed, your fiery nature that could not help but inflame my desire for you. Having given me a taste, I am famished, starving for you in a way I have never known. Because of this you have every chance of winning our wager. So do we have a deal?"

"Of course, we do not," Blair said her mouth suddenly dry.

"You are afraid, dear wife," he replied with a smirk. "Afraid that I shall win and you will not.

Blair's chin rose, her eyes flashing dangerously. "You are deliberately provoking me."

"Is it working?" Chuck asked teasingly.

"Yes," Blair replied forcefully. "I have everything to gain and nothing to lose. I shall never fall in love with a rake such as yourself. You will loose and then you shall never know the intimacies of my marriage bed.

Chuck's lips quirked into a smile of devilish merriment. "If nothing else I shall enjoy the chase."

"We shall need rules," Blair said, her tone business like as she contemplated their deal.

"I give you my word I won't do anything you won't enjoy," Chuck said slyly. Before Blair could react he rushed forward. "All I ask is that you keep an open mind."

"I shall try," Blair conceded, watching Chuck warily as if he was a poisonous snake about to strike.

"That is all I ask. Now if you would put your toy gun away, I would very much like to go to sleep." Pulling back the covers, Chuck started to climb into bed.

"You can't sleep here!" Blair exclaimed shrilly.

Chuck sighed, his eye suddenly hard. "I give you this one night on your own, but after that we share a bed until our wager has come to its conclusion." At seeing Blair's instant fear, he continued," I promise I won't touch you." Chuck paused to waggle his brows seductively at Blair, "unless you ask for it, of course."

"That shall never happen," Blair replied firmly.

"You know I want you. Can you honestly say you are not attracted to me in the least?

Color washed over her cheeks, her lashes fluttering closed. "There is no denying you are handsome. But you are also arrogant and overbearing and most certainly not a gentleman."

Chuck's eyes twinkled at the way she could praise and insult him in one breath. "What about when I kissed you? Did it disgust you? Was there nothing you enjoyed?"

Blair glanced away, if possible her cheeks growing redder. "It was terrible, like kissing a slobbering fish," she lashed out.

Chuck closed the distance between them. Then you must give me another chance to redeem myself. Reaching out he gently lifted her chin. "Give me just a taste, Blair and I will leave you for the night. Close your eyes," he commanded.

"You promise you will leave?"

"You have my word." Chuck stepped closer to Blair, until their faces were mere centimeters apart. "Close your eyes," he murmured huskily.

She did so warily, standing as straight as a rod, her lips pursed.

He chuckled and leaning in ever so softly he settled his mouth over hers. Her lips were as soft as rose petals and immediately he felt his body tighten and react. She was the sweetest and most desirable woman he had ever kissed. Blair tentatively opened her mouth as he sought entrance, his tongue ravished her slowly, pulsing in and out, curling to stroke the roof of her mouth with exquisitely light strokes, until she moaned and leaned into his arms.

Gently he pulled away, leaving her wanting more. Her fingers unconsciously came up to touch her now swollen lips. He noticed her hands were trembling, her eyes big and uncertain and he was beyond pleased at her reaction. He had no allusions that with time her body would be his.

"Enjoy your last night of slumber alone. For tomorrow we sleep as husband and wife." With a smoldering look that hinted at something dark and sensual Chuck left the room.

Sensation licking at her belly and pooling between her thighs, Blair lay awake long after he had left, suddenly very afraid that she might have made a losing bet.

* * *

Happy New Year! All the best to everyone in 2010. :D

Thanks to Chole for looking this over.

Much love to my reviewers: Whitlock., RedheadObsession, LisaLevine, neferkefer123, dk-fatale, Edwardslover09, Pao, Allyan, , guardian izz, SnowedUnderNJ, gossipgirllover11, Poinsettia, odyjha, Blair S., cakebakery, nanase, Karen, READER120, sweetshorti868, dkmm, NoL, wrighthangal, Syrianora, damnthatmotherchucker, tvrox12, hiddenletter, blair4eva, abelard, GoodGirl, Bye11, ggloverxx19, CBIWBJ trory12, 5Bella5, KillerNewton, Ingridmarie, ana-12., EstrellaBass, Chic, , lacquer, bluckchair, RR, Sk8ergherl, Lil Miss Chuckles, ggxoxo, vanillalatte86, badromance, amplifiyahh, RubyQueen, Jen21, the gaffa, Krism and 3venst4r.


	3. Chapter 3

Chuck did not sleep that night. All night long he lay awake thinking of his new wife. It wasn't just her beauty that kept him awake or the aching lust he felt for her, but rather the audacity and courageousness of her plan. That she had pointed a gun at him and felt no hesitation at shooting him to protect her honor fascinated him. He had never known a woman before that did not want him…at least in some way. His wealth, his good looks and his title had ensured that he was constantly chased and enticed by women of all classes. Yet it was his wife, the one woman decreed by church and state as his, that wanted nothing to do with him. Puzzled and faced with a set of circumstances he had never faced before, his mind refused him sleep.

Having learned a great deal about Blair in one day Chuck pondered long and hard on how best to use this knowledge. With gun in hand she had shown bravery and a certain malicious nature that he, unlike so many others, understood completely. Chuck admired the way she had faced him; her hand steady and her smile wicked and taunting. She would have shot him, he was certain, if he had tried to force himself on her. Knowing this made him proud of his new bride and surprisingly made him desire her all the more.

Lying in his bed, just on the other side of the door from his wife, was also enough to keep him awake. Never before had he brought a woman into his home. The Duchess's bedchambers had been empty since his mother's death. He had never once contemplated defiling them with any of the many women he dallied with. He always used rented houses and apartments for his romantic entanglements, never bothering to stay more than a few hours at the most. Knowing that a woman, his wife, was just a few steps away filled him with an odd feeling he didn't know how to decipher. Never before had he spent the night with a woman and yet tonight he was, even though a door lay between them. More than that; he had been fully prepared to spend the night - the whole night - with Blair. Sleep in the same bed, not touching, just being close to her. He didn't know what to do with these conflicting thoughts and emotions, so he lay awake until the stars disappeared and morning's light streamed through the windows.

Arising earlier than normal he dressed with the help of his valet. Going through his morning ritual he couldn't help the way his eyes strayed to the door that separated his room from his wife's. He wondered if she still lay asleep in her virginal bower, or if she to was up and starting her day. He wanted to enter her room and see, but thought better of it. He had no desire to have a gun pointed at him with his valet in attendance. He hoped that she too had lain awake, her mind tortured with the sensations he knew his kiss had aroused in her.

With a last look at her door he left his bedroom and headed to the small breakfast room adjoining the bedroom suites that had been used for the morning meal for generations. Reaching the sunny room, he noticed agreeably that the fire had already been lit and the day's newspapers were laid out and waiting for him. While he gave the persona of a lecherous playboy about town there was another side to him - one that the general public never saw. Lord Bass, Duke of Devon was a shrewd businessman, with business ventures in mining, textiles and the fledgling locomotive industry. He had his finger in numerous amounts of ventures, ones that had made him a rich man several times over. It was a legacy from his father, one that he was honored to carry on. Duke Bartholomew Bass had never been one to sit contently, enjoying the laurels that were due to his title and position. Bart, against the current fashion of indolent aristocrats, had made a name for himself in the business world. Creating a fortune that Chuck could never hope to spend his way through. It was Chuck's enormous pride that kept him constantly outdoing his father, one-business deal at a time, until the Bass's were the richest family in all of England.

Flipping through the pages of the newspapers he was pleased to see his lovely bride gracing the cover of every one. Her smile, while sweet, was stiff and only he knew the true animosity and fire that lay hidden within. Dressed in her wedding clothes she looked very much like the fairytale princesses he had grown up with, not read to him by his father, but instead by the numerous governesses that had helped raise him. Smirking slightly as he took a drink of tea he lewdly thought that instead of a prince Blair had gotten a lecher instead, someone whose very goal and thoughts centered on her seduction and the loss of her innocence.

Hearing the gentle cough of his housekeeper, he slowly set his teacup down, patiently waiting for what she had to say.

"Will the Duchess be joining you for breakfast, Your Grace?" Mrs. Miller asked, a smile on her face.

Chuck wondered exactly how long Blair would sleep, how long it would take for her to make an appearance and to his surprise he realized he was anxiously awaiting her next move.

"I am not sure," he replied slowly. Staring at the piles of breakfast entrees that lined the table, he suddenly realized how very lonely and pathetic it must look to have so much served for just one person. For a fleeting moment it crossed his mind that maybe his existence was lonely, but before he could think on the matter he immediately obliterated its existence.

"Knock on Her Grace's door and tell her that her presence is expected at breakfast," he commanded. He felt a tingle of pleasure at the scene that was no doubt to enfold when his message was delivered.

As Mrs. Miller fulfilled her task, Chuck couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at the unladylike oath that followed his decree. While he couldn't see her face, he could guess at the way she looked right now, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she cursed him. If possible his desire for his wife intensified and flared leaving his trousers tight and restrictive.

Turning his attention once more to the papers in front of him Chuck tried to read, but after looking at the same sentence four times he gave up and stared at the door to Blair's room. Listening to the rustling sounds that came from her bedroom he took another sip of his tea as he prepared himself for her appearance.

The paneled door slid open and there she stood coldly, eyes wary, her dark hair gleaming in the glow of the sunlight. Her curls, loose and flowing over her shoulders teased and tempted him. He wanted to lift those silken strands and wind them around his fingers, tugging ever so slightly until he released the fire that lay beneath her chilly demeanor. Dressed in a turquoise satin dressing gown embroidered with peacocks, she was a vision of exotic beauty that left Chuck once more congratulating himself on his luck at having been blessed with such a beautiful bride.

Glaring at him, her eyes cutting, she waited patiently as he pulled out the chair for her.

"Good morning," Chuck said affably.

"If you say so," Blair replied with acidic sweetness.

Sliding into her chair, Chuck couldn't help but notice how she shrank from coming into contact with him. Seating herself stiffly, she poured herself a cup of tea from the steaming silver pot.

Instead of her actions deterring him, Chuck took this as a good sign. She was not indifferent to his presence, his touch.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked courteously, choosing to ignore her obvious irritation.

Blair paused slightly before answering. She was unsure of how to answer a question that so easily could trap her; show how much his kiss last night had unsettled her.

"Well, enough," she finally responded with a careless shrug. Years of polite training reared its ugly head as she found herself continuing the conversation. "And you?"

"Horribly, I am afraid," he said with a slight grimace.

"Oh?" she answered.

"Unfortunately, I have been given a most ravishing treasure, by the Queen no less, and I am forbidden to unwrap it and give it the attention it is due," he replied with a leering glance that swept Blair from her head to her tiny slipper clad feet. "Thoughts of my gift and all the possibilities of pleasures to be had from it kept me awake until early morning."

"Some gifts aren't meant to be unwrapped. Merely appreciated from afar," Blair said blandly as if she was discussing the weather.

Picking up one of the newspapers, she rolled her eyes at a headline that proclaimed their marriage the love match of the century. Shutting her new husband from view she held the paper over her face pretending to read.

"What would Your Grace care for breakfast?" Mrs. Miller asked quietly, unobtrusively making her presence known. "I was unsure of what you normally eat so I just prepared the assortment His Grace prefers."

"That is fine," Blair offered to the woman kindly. "Just some fruit and a croissant with honey would be perfect."

Blair and Chuck sat in silence as Blair was served her breakfast on the monogrammed ivory china. Crystal and heavy silver utensils were hurriedly placed before her and then the housekeeper curtsied, taking leave of the new couple.

"In the future I would appreciate taking breakfast in my own chambers," Blair said haughtily as she took a sip of tea.

"Why certainly," Chuck said with a sly look. "Perhaps we can have a tray brought in and we can breakfast in bed together."

Blair crashed her teacup roughly against the saucer. "There will be no more breakfasts together and certainly not in bed."

"But, Sweetheart, you are not living up to your end of the wager. You must allow us a fair chance to woo each other."

"I am sure you will have ample opportunities to attempt your noxious sexual wiles on me outside of the bedchamber," Blair countered tartly. "Let me at least be allowed the peace of my own breakfast."

"Ah, I wish I could, but that would be most unfair to the legitimacy of our wager. You must allow me to woo you at all times and that includes breakfast. Besides; it is tradition that the Duke and Duchess always breakfast together when they are both in residence."

Blair glared at him, her eyes raking him like blades of ice.

"Think of it this way, My Love," Chuck said in a smug tone. "It gives you more of a chance to get me to fall in love with you, therefore winning our wager and allowing you to keep your virginity that you deem so precious."

With a calculating look at Chuck, Blair picked up a strawberry and swirling the tip of it with her tongue, she tasted its luscious sweetness.

Chuck stared at her mouth, her lips, her tongue, his eyes darkening with desire.

"It isn't my virginity I am guarding so zealously, rather I am trying to preserve my dignity at not being just another one of your many conquests," she said as she took a bite out of the strawberry.

Chuck coughed and reached for his teacup. Scalding his tongue with the hot brew he accepted the welcome distraction as Blair dribbled honey over croissant, spilling some of it on her fingers. Licking them clean, one by one, she peeped at him through her long eyelashes.

"I am beginning to think you could never be just another one of my conquests," Chuck said huskily, biting back a groan as Blair took a nibble of her croissant, the honey spilling unto the corner of her mouth. Quickly like a cat, her tongue reached out to catch the drop that hovered over her lips.

Imagining Blair's milky white skin covered in droplets of honey that he slowly licked off was enough to set Chuck's head spinning. He reached for his toast with unsteady hands, as she bit into another strawberry.

A knock sounded at the door and before he had a chance to answer his best friend - Lord Archibald - bounded in.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Nate blushed as he bowed to Blair. Turning to Chuck he looked at him with puzzlement. "You always breakfast alone."

"You forget I am married now," Chuck said coldly with an angry look at his friend.

"But you said that your marriage would change nothing and that your wife was nothing more than an inconvenience and one to be avoided at all costs," Nate blurted out innocently, confused by Chuck's words and attitude.

"Dear Nathaniel, I think you may have misconstrued my words just a bit," Chuck spat out, throwing his newspaper down on the table.

"No, I remember you saying exactly that your life would not change one damn bit and your wife could go to the devil if she thought otherwise." As if suddenly remembering where he was and his manners, Nate turned to Blair, his eyes widening as he, for the first time, took in the inappropriateness of his words and her beauty. "My apologies, Your Grace."

Blair waved her hand in his direction, dismissing his apology. "No apologies necessary, My Lord. I am well aware of the Dukes distaste of marriage and have long since accepted that I am to be nothing more then an ornament on his arm and a way to curry favor with the Queen," she responded tartly.

Nate reached out to capture her hand and raising it to his lips he kissed the tips of her fingers, slowly, lingeringly. "I must say that Chuck has managed to ensnare the loveliest jewel in the Queens realm. He should count himself the luckiest of men."

Blair smiled at Nate, her face glowing with a light Chuck had never seen before. A new sensation, one he had never experienced until now clawed at his belly. He was filled with an irrational jealousy, one that made him want to punch his best friend of many years in the face.

"I don't believe we have been officially introduced," Nate said with a toothy grin. "I am Nathaniel Archibald, Earl of Suffolk, and Chuck's oldest and dearest friend. You can call me Nate.

"I think your position in my life needs to be re-evaluated," Chuck said darkly.

Blair laughed, the sound like the tinkling of bells brought smiles to both men's faces. "Nate," Blair said softly, "If we are not to stand on ceremony, you really must call me Blair."

"Blair," Nate repeated, her name rolling off his tongue like a caress.

Chuck stared at Nate coldly, his mind already imaging all sorts of ways to torture his friend. "Isn't there someplace you need to be, Archibald?"

"Why? We always breakfast together Saturday mornings. It gives me a chance to live vicariously through your exploits. Some of them are quite legendary. Why there is the one with that young Parisian woman who—"

Blair couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips at the look of fury and - to her surprise - embarrassment that crossed her husband's face.

Arising abruptly from the breakfast table, Chuck roughly escorted Nate out the door, to the poor man's displeasure.

"Blair, save me a dance at Lord Grenville's Ball tonight?" Nate called out as the door was slammed in his face.

"Certainly," Blair replied with a hint of a smile as she arose from the breakfast table. "I believe we are finished here, Your Grace," she added with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"Chuck, my Dear" the Duke said abruptly, his voice colored slightly with annoyance. "You are my wife and as such you will call me by my given name."

"Chuck, then" Blair answered as if she was appeasing a child. "I believe we are finished here." She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist.

"If you think I will tolerate you dallying with another man, you are very much mistaken. You are my wife and if you will not give me your favors, no other but me shall have them," Chuck said passionately, his mouth twisting into something cruel and bitter.

Blair's mouth fell open in wordless shock. Drawing herself up to her full height, her face full of fury, she stared him down. "Unlike the strumpets you are used to dealing with, I would not ever play you false. I know my duty and if you think for one moment that I would give my 'favors,' " she paused as she bit out the word, " to another while married under God and with the Queen's blessing then you have no understanding of the concept of honor."

Chuck's face relaxed, his eyes softening like the calm after a storm. "Forgive me, My Love. You are quite right, I fear I am unaccustomed to honor among the women of my acquaintance." Knitting his brow, a sarcastic smile on his face he continued: "I must admit that it does seem a bit of a contradiction that you see faithfulness as a sign of your duty, but dismiss my rights to your body."

"I may have been given to you in marriage and while the law states you own me, I will never submit to you willingly."

"Unless you fall in love with me, of course," Chuck said with a self-assured grin.

"There is as much a chance of that as pigs flying," Blair stated matter-of–factly.

Chuck gently turned over her hand to bare her wrist to his gaze. Leaning in he placed a soft kiss over the sensitive skin. "Then I expect to see them hovering in the clouds shortly."

Blair stood still with her heart thundering in her chest as she felt his lips like a downy feather caress her inner wrist. She wanted to pull her hand away, but instead his eyes caught hers and she succumbed to the heated murkiness in their depths.

"Sweet Blair, as much as it pains me I have business matters I need to attend too, but I shall see you tonight at seven when we head to Lord Grenville's ball," Chuck said regretfully, his face reflecting his disappointment at not being able to continue what they had started. "Feel free to acquaint yourself with your new home. Make any changes you wish - my fortune is at your disposal. This house is now your kingdom."

The spell broken, Blair snatched her hand away. "Thank you, Chuck," she responded with surprise in her voice. It was commonly accepted that wives had little power over the purse strings of their spouses. For Chuck to be so generous with his fortune and give her power to make changes in their home was a gracious and benevolent act on his part. She couldn't help but be grateful that he was to be the type of husband that did not feel the need to control every penny and every act of change she instituted into his life and his home. "I am grateful for your generosity," she replied, pleasure in her voice.

"How grateful?" he hinted with a smirk.

Blair laughed, the sound filling Chuck with delight. "Not that grateful." Turning her back she exited the breakfast room, Chuck longingly watching every graceful swing of her hips.

Blair spent the morning enjoying a rose scented bath in her new suite. While she had frequently bathed in her old home, she had used a portable copper tub that poor Dorota had been responsible for filling with buckets of water drawn from the kitchens. Reveling in the luxury of her very own claw foot tub, complete with hot water plumbing, her mind wandered to her new husband. While there was little doubt he was a scoundrel and a rake, Chuck had been amazingly sweet by granting her access to his fortune. Not only that; but instead of insisting on his matrimonial rights during their wedding night he had given her a way out with his wager. All she had to do was get him to fall in love with her and she was free. As for her falling in love with him, there was no way she was going to be just another notch on his bedpost. She was worth more than that. She may have been forced to marry him, but that did not mean she was giving up who she was and her life to be cannon fodder to his lust.

Stretching her toes in the heavenly warm water she considered how best to get him to fall in love with her without giving into his sexual demands. They seemed so very much at odds. She had no doubt at all that she could never fall for him. He was everything she loathed and despised in a gentleman; lazy and indolent and hell bent on bedding everything that moved. She honestly couldn't fathom any situation where she might fall even the slightest in love with him. But then again there was that kiss…that magnetism he seemed to have. Against her will she had found herself responding and she hated herself for it. The only way she could rationalize her body's weakness was to remember that he was the most practiced lover in all of the Queen's kingdom and as such he knew how to get under her skin, tempt her with his wiles.

The water finally cooling she stepped out of the tub, gathering around her the linen towel Mrs. Miller had laid out to warm in front of the large, tiled fire place. Ringing for the maid she waited patiently in front of her vanity table, brushing out her long wet curls.

"Finished with your bath, Your Grace?" Mrs. Miller asked cheerfully, entering the room with a young fresh-faced girl in tow. "This is Rose, my apprentice. If you don't object she is to be your lady's maid."

Blair set her ivory handled hairbrush down, turning to face the young maid. "What training have you had?"

"Very little, Your Grace" Rose admitted, boldly catching Blair's eyes, her cheeks flushing. "But I wish more than anything to learn, to serve a great lady like yourself."

Mrs. Miller nodded approvingly. "Rose has worked her way up from scullery maid to upper housemaid in a matter of years. I did send her to London for hairdressing training when I learned of the Duke's impending marriage. She comes of good stock; her mother worked for the late Duchess and her father works in the stables at the country estate.

Blair studied Rose and knew she must tread carefully here. While an untrained lady's maid was not what she would choose she realized that her taking Rose under her wing would signal to the staff of the house that she preferred to promote from within instead of choosing to look to London for an experienced lady's maid. This would surely earn her the good will of the household, something she would need if she wished her orders to be obeyed with good-natured obedience. She had every intention of entertaining and becoming one on London's leading hostesses and as such she would need all the help from the staff she could get.

"Are you willing to work hard and take direction without protest?" Blair asked sternly.

Bobbing her head up and down Rose curtseyed low.

"Then I think we will suit fine," Blair said with a queenly wave of her hand.

Mrs. Miller grinned widely. "Of course, Your Grace, I will help to oversee her in the beginning to ensure you receive the quality of service you are used to."

"You can begin by choosing an appropriate afternoon gown, something suitable for touring my new home and indulging in afternoon tea since I am afraid I have missed lunch with my very indulgent bath," Blair said with a laugh.

Rushing to the wardrobe, Rose hesitated in awe as she stared at the silks, satins, velvets and lace gowns. All the colors of the rainbow, they were the grandest clothing she had ever seen. Running her fingers over the multiple fabrics, she finally drew out a lovely green satin gown sprigged with small white flowers.

Under Mrs. Miller's watchful eyes Rose then dressed Blair in her corset, chemise, silk stockings and bell shaped petticoats. Blair tried hard not to care, but ever since she had heard that Rose's parents had served under the late Duke and Duchess she was curious as to what they had been like. While Rose buttoned the tiny buttons at the back of her dress she bit her tongue, as questions filled her mouth. Seating herself once more at her vanity table she sat regally as Rose began to work on her hair.

Finally she could take it no longer and the words rushed from her lips. "Tell me of the late Duke and Duchess?" She asked with just a hint of pleading in her tone.

Rose started and looked to Mrs. Miller for a sign on how to proceed.

"With all due respect, gossiping is something we highly frown upon when it comes to the Bass household," Mrs. Millers replied rigidly.

"Disobedience to a direct order from your Duchess is something I highly frown up," Blair stated not unkindly, but with steel in her voice.

Rose turned pitying eyes to Blair. "Perhaps it is best Her Grace knows exactly what she has married into."

Sighing, Mrs. Miller looked as if she might object, but with a shake of her head she gave in.

"The former Duke and Duchess were very much in love. Their marriage was an unexpected love match from the beginning. At one time this house was filled with nothing but joy and love. Why, the two of them could barely be coaxed to leave the Ducal bedchambers," Mrs. Miller said with a small laugh.

Blair could not help the color that rushed to her cheek. Knowing how servants gossiped she could not help but wonder if it had been noticed that the Duke had spent the night in his own chambers and not in hers.

Her eyes clouding over, Mrs. Miller continued: "When it was found that Her Grace was pregnant never was there a more joyful man than His Grace. Nothing was too good for his wife. Her Grace's favorite fruit, blackberries, were sent up daily from the country estate at great expense. All seemed fine until the birth. The Duke was overjoyed with the birth of a son and heir, but it was quite obvious in a matter of hours that the Duchess was not going to make it. The birth had been too difficult and Her Grace had lost too much blood. It wasn't long until she passed, leaving her infant son motherless. The Duke locked himself in his bedchambers for months refusing even to see his son, it wasn't until the small babe almost died from croup that the Duke was roused from his grief and lethargy. Unfortunately the damage had already been done and the Duke never managed to bond with his son, of course it didn't help that the wee lad looked just like his poor mother. "

"Then there were the women," Rose interjected in a low whisper.

Mrs. Miller cast Rose a look of annoyance, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well after the Duchess's death His Grace tried to fill the emptiness that no doubt lingered in his heart."

"Poor little man," Rose said softly. "Watching his father drift from one woman to the next while he was all but ignored."

Blair - very much against her better judgment - began to feel sympathy for the small boy who most likely had wanted his father's attention more than anyone else's. While her mother had been distant, she had never doubted that her father loved her. Some of her favorite memories were the magical times she had spent with him, ice skating, reading fairytales and traveling to France together.

As Rose's deft fingers pinned her curls and swept her hair up into a chignon, Blair tried to reconcile the boy with the man she had only just began to know.

Mrs. Miller wandered about Blair's bedroom, straightening pillows and opening the heavy curtains that covered the arched windows. "Even though the elder Bass spent his time wining and dining the female sex he also managed to create a fortune with his business ventures. Left alone without his wife and struggling with a son he didn't know how to relate too he poured his energy into creating the Bass Empire. By his forties he owned half of lower England and by his death there was not a single pie he didn't have his finger in."

"It is unfortunate the current Duke did not inherit his father's driven industry instead of just his womanizing ways," Blair said sarcastically.

Disapproving eyes heralded Blair's remark. "His Grace - while not only inheriting his father's Empire - has also expanded it to double its worth. Why even today he is meeting with members of the locomotive industry to discuss and expansion of the rail line to the highlands."

Blair's mouth momentarily dropped open in surprise. "I see," she remarked faintly.

"I can't begin to tell you how happy we were to hear that His Grace was getting married," Rose said excitedly. "Especially to a young lady as beautiful as yourself." Smoothing out a few loose tendrils, she finished dressing Blair's hair and stepped aside for Mrs. Miller to evaluate.

Mrs. Miller nodded approvingly at her work. "Everyone is thrilled that the Duke has chosen Your Grace for his bride," she said emphatically, giving Blair a studied look. "This place hasn't been a home since the Duke's mother passed and Your Grace is exactly what His Grace and this place need…a breath of fresh air. I want you to know that everyone from the scullery maids to the footmen is here to help you with any changes you wish to make. His Grace needs you and so do we."

Blair swallowed hard, barely glancing at her image in the mirror as she turned around. Already she could feel the bars of her gilded cage pressing in around her. For the first time she realized that the duty and responsibility of being a Duchess meant much more than the title would suggest. The staff clearly expected her to make a home for the Duke; to be something more than just a pretty ornament on his arm. They wanted a true Duchess, one who would be a wife in more than name only. For all they knew this was a true love match. Only her and Chuck knew different and for just a fraction of a second her heart softened and she wished circumstance were different between them.

Unable to continue this dangerous line of thought Blair distracted herself by reaching out to smooth her newly styled hair. "Lovely work, Rose. I believe a tour is in order next."

Blair's comment effectively dismissed the revealing conversation and Mrs. Miller - looking a bit chastised - opened the bedroom door for Blair to exit.

Taking a tour of the Bass residence took a good portion of the day. Escorted from one darkened and sheeted room to the next, Blair was disheartened by the neglect she saw. In every room worn and dusty drapes covered the windows, keeping the light at bay and the furniture, while of good taste and quality, was tattered and aged.

Mrs. Miller took notes while footmen drew back the old and no doubt molding drapes to let the bright sunlight in. The rooms - flooded with sparkling sunlight - were magnificent. Filled with marble columns, tapestries, paneled walls and rare tiles the rooms were beautiful backdrops that Blair could work with.

Dust clung to Blair's skirts as another set of drapes in another room was flung open. "Has it always been like this?"

"Ever since the Duchess passed," Rose said mournfully. "The former Duke could stand no memory of her and shuttered most of the house, spending most of his time living at his club."

"What of Chuck—I mean the Duke," Blair stuttered, her cheeks flooding with color at her lapse of judgment.

"Poor wee mite," Mrs. Miller crooned with pity. "He was kept mostly to the nursery and then later when he was of age he kept to the Duke's quarters. "

Blair reached out to run a finger over one of the exquisitely carved marble fireplaces, ignoring the dust. "Why didn't he open this part of the house up once his father was gone? Surely there was no need to keep it like this, a mausoleum to the dead."

"He was waiting for his bride, someone he trusted and loved to bring light into the darkness," Rose replied romantically, practically swooning.

"I think it had more to do with him being too busy furthering his father's business ventures to put the proper amount of time into remodeling," Mrs. Miller replied with a quelling glance at Rose. "Also I think he was waiting until he was married so his wife could make her mark on the place."

"Well, something certainly needs to be done if I am ever to entertain here," Blair said archly.

Mrs. Miller and Rose grinned at her happily as she wandered the rooms, giving orders as to what furniture was to be kept for recovering and what was to be sent to the attics. Given a purpose Blair spent hours at her task as she attempted to bring order to chaos.

"Tomorrow I want to see furniture makers and upholsters and as many bolts of fabrics as can be brought in for coverings and drapes," Blair commanded as she paced the room. "We have a great deal of work ahead of us, but I promise when we are through this place will be fit enough for a visit from the Queen."

When at last she could take it no longer, Blair headed up to the Ducal breakfast chamber where she had requested tea be laid out. One of the younger and very tall footmen rushed to open the door for her and it took all of his will power not to smile at his new Duchess with pleasure. He knew she had spent the day working hard on the house and a silken cobweb clung like a veil to her beautiful hair. With a look of devotion he held the door, closing it softly behind her.

Entering the room, her stomach rumbling, Blair was startled to find Chuck lying on the settee in the corner of the room, lightly sleeping. Softly she crept towards him, her silk soled shoes silent against the thick carpet. Standing over him, she noticed how tired he looked. His lashes covered bruise like smudges under his eyes. When he was like this she could not help the pull she felt in her heart towards this man, the one she had declared her husband before Queen and country. His firm lips were parted slightly as puffs of air passed though his mouth. Her eyes narrowed in on his lips and her finger reached up to touch her own as she remembered the kiss he had given her last night. The pleasure, the ecstasy, she had known when his lips had brushed hers, his tongue gently stroking her mouth. Never before had she felt such an intimate pleasure. Against her will her hand reached out as if to stroke the perfect angle of his face, before cold reality set in. Shaking her head she stepped back, anxious to break the spell he held over her.

"So are you going to steal a kiss or just stare at me adoringly?" Chuck questioned playfully, opening one eye to look at Blair.

Blair startled at his words, rushing over to the small table, at least giving the illusion of a barrier between them. "I wasn't staring," she countered angrily.

"Then what were you doing?" Chuck asked, languorously sitting up and stretching his long legs. "Ravishing me with your eyes?"

Blair, her hand shaking, poured tea from the heavy silver pot into her fragile bone china cup. "I was doing nothing of the sort," She retorted with frustration.

"I beg to differ, Sweet Blair," Chuck replied with a knowing smirk as he advanced on her. Falling in behind her chair, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his hot breath caressing her delicate lobe. "You have only to whisper the words and my kisses are yours. "

"Maybe for now, but what about tomorrow or the next day? I will not be a diversion on your path of debauchery," Blair retorted shortly.

Chuck had no answer, all he knew was that in this moment he wanted nothing more than her. He couldn't even think of another woman when she was this close. This disturbed him to such an extent he wanted to run out and sleep with one of his numerous mistresses, just to prove she held no hold over him.

"It looks like you have had a productive day," he said, blatantly changing the subject. "Hold still," he murmured huskily as he leaned ever so closer to her and with tender fingers removed the cobweb from her hair, dropping it to the table where it lay like aged lace against the linen.

Blair for just a moment leaned into his touch allowing his clean and fresh scent to surround her, mesmerize her. "I didn't know that was there."

"Obviously," Chuck responded playfully. "One would never expect the Duchess to ever look anything other than her perfect and pristine self."

Turning to face him Blair rolled her eyes at him, not even bothering to grace his taunt with a response.

Once more she noticed the tiredness etched in his features and the slope of his shoulders. Taking pity on him, knowing his weariness was due not only from lack of sleep but the business deal he had spent all day on according to Mrs. Miller and Rose, she pulled out the chair next to her.

"Please join me," she offered kindly.

Chuck blinked, thrown completely off guard by her generous hospitality. Staring into her eyes, he searched for an ulterior motive, finding none he sat down gratefully next to his wife.

"Have you eaten, Your Grace?" Blair asked as she piled pastries and small cucumber sandwiches on her plate.

"Chuck," he said tiredly.

"Have you had anything to eat since this morning, Chuck," she said, her voice a silken caress.

Chuck shook his head, looking at her mystified.

Glancing at the plate of food she had just filled she slid it over to him. "Eat, Chuck," she said with a gentle smile.

To his surprise he immediately obeyed her orders. Silently Blair filled another teacup, placing it in front of Chuck. Catching her eyes he communicated his gratefulness. Together they ate in quiet companionship. Filled and satiated Chuck pushed his plate away. Leaning his hand upon his head he studied his wife as she delicately picked at a blueberry scone.

"Tell me about your day," he rasped, the words and the concept of actually being interested in a female's day startling and unsettling him.

"Are you genuinely interested or is this all a ploy to get me to fall for you?" she asked tartly.

"Both," he replied cheekily, with good-natured humor.

Blair laughed, the sound one of true amusement. "I have spent the day, Chuck, going through your house and bringing order to chaos—"

"Our house," Chuck interrupted with a wink.

"Yes, well I can't believe how you have managed to let the house get in such disrepair. This is a beautiful home and it is a shame it has been neglected beyond belief," Blair said taking another sip of tea.

Chuck sighed heavily, his eyes dark and angry. "My father never let anything be touched in his lifetime and I have carried out his wishes even after his death. "

"But why?"

Shrugging lazily, a bitter smile on his lips, he answered defensively: "Too busy wooing the female population, I suppose."

Sympathy reared its ugly head against Blair's better judgment. She read between the lines, what Chuck could not say and at that very moment she vowed she would make this a home. She would refurbish and decorate until their house was a haven for entertainment and quiet evenings. She would banish the sadness and grief the rooms carried within them and make them over into something new, something that had no memories. While her and Chuck would never live as husband and wife she could at least give him this.

"Tell me about your day?" She asked, cheerfully changing the subject.

Once more Chuck looked at her in startled puzzlement. "You really want to know?" he asked disbelievingly.

"I do," Blair said with an encouraging nod.

"I spent the morning closeted with a number of the Queen's government officials trying to convince them of the necessity of furthering the railways into Scotland. It was very boring and tedious, but I think I finally convinced them that quick transportation to the isles can only benefit the kingdom," Chuck replied, his tone growing more excited with each word. "On top of that I met with some new investors about building a new night club, one to rival the Moulin Rouge in Paris."

Blair flushed at the mention of the Moulin Rouge. As a properly reared young lady she wasn't supposed to know such places did exist, but she had never been a proper young lady. She had heard that not only did the dancers wear short skirts, but they lifted them in a dance called the Can-Can.

"I am not sure such a place would be appropriate for London," she replied stiffly.

Chuck laughed, "That is where you are wrong. The nightlife in London is sadly lacking and I have a feeling that something of this nature would take off immensely. After all; gentlemen need a place to bring their mistresses."

Blair rose from the table angrily. "I suppose this is just the sort of place you will patronize with your many mistresses."

A lazy smile spread across Chuck's lips as his eyes danced with devilry. "I suppose it is."

"If you will excuse me, I am afraid I have a lot of work to do in preparation for the ball tonight," Blair said stiffly, her eyes flashing as she left the room.

Chuck lounged back in his chair, filled with a heady sense of happiness. He had made his wife jealous and the thought filled him with delight. He had never doubted he had a chance at earning her love, but to know that she could be so easily provoked into jealousy gave him hope that soon she would be his both body and soul.

* * *

Much love to my reviewers: -Melody of Words-, Kat, humanminute, ronan03, Edwardslover09, anonymous, nostalgiakills, walkerlu, Pao, .x, EstrellaBass, RedheadObsession, Syrianora, Elicia1, ovely12, Whitney1812, annablake, Poinsettia, damnthatmotherchucker, xoxochuckandblairxoxo, thenewjealousmuch909, aD, rr, teddy bear, sandra007, Krism, TDCTDC, READER120, Lisa, HnM skinnys, ggff-fan., LisaLevine, Lalai, GGirl-CB4BW, kousi, kure yui, Dd, Molize, tversky, cherrysugar, chuckandblairloverrr, Bye11, BrittyKay247, Krazy4Spike, Blood Red Kiss of Death, Lil Miss Chuckles, cakebakery, dreamgurl, DewiMadrim and xoxogg4lifexoxo.

Thanks and gratitude go to my wonderful beta's Camilla and Chole.


	4. Chapter 4

Blair sat patiently as Rose finished dressing her hair; pinning the curls into an elaborate yet graceful hairstyle.

"It looks lovely, Rose," Blair said with an approving glance.

Rose bobbed a curtsy, her cheeks pinking with pleasure at the compliment. "If I can say so, Your Grace looks so beautiful I don't see how the Duke will be able to take his eyes off you tonight."

"Hmmm," Blair murmured passively as she rose from the plush vanity chair to take a look at her figure in the mirror. She had no doubt that her husband would have eyes for anything and everything that looked flirtatiously in his direction. She just hoped he would do her the courtesy of trying to be circumspect about his affairs when she was present.

Blair critically took in her appearance. The sapphire thin silk ball gown she wore set off her dark eyes, making them look almost green. Tiny crystals sewn into the bodice sparkled and reflected the candlelight whenever she moved even the slightest. The tiny sleeves left her pale ivory shoulders bare and the dress dipped in front to show just the slightest hint of cleavage. Several stiff petticoats gave the dress the required full skirt. Around her neck was a small pearl choker, a gift from her mother on the occasion of her eighteenth birthday. While she would never be a great beauty like her good friend Serena, she was pleased with her appearance.

Turning around she was startled to find Chuck staring, his eyes hot and admiring.

"There will be no woman that can hold a candle to you tonight, Blair. I don't think I have ever seen such beauty," Chuck said with awe. Used to continually paying extravagant compliments to the women he constantly wooed he found himself surprised that he actually meant this one. Although he had seen Blair at teatime and had found her lovely and desirable then it didn't compare to what he felt now. If possible she seemed to grow more beautiful with every moment he spent in her company and the very thought scared and thrilled him at the same time.

Blair swallowed dryly as she took in Chuck's appearance. He was so handsome in his black suit, so elegantly debonair that she found herself at a loss for words. As if he sensed her discomfort Chuck smiled mischievously at her. Distracted from her thoughts she barely noticed him pull from behind his back a long, flat leather jewel case.

"A present for you to wear tonight," he said, bowing with a flourish as he handed her the box.

Eyes growing wide with surprise, Blair slowly opened the box. What she saw inside took her breath away. Nestled among the purple velvet was a flawless diamond necklace shaped like flowers, matching earrings and a bracelet completed the set. Never having seen anything so beautiful and certainly never expecting to own anything so expensive Blair felt tears prick at her eyelids.

"Do you like it?" Chuck asked in a bland tone as if he didn't care in the least how she felt about his gift.

With a single finger Blair stroked the diamond petals in the necklace. "It is exquisite," she replied softly.

"Just like my bride," Chuck said with sincerity as he moved behind her to unfasten her pearl choker. Motioning for Rose, he handed her the now neglected necklace. Rose took it from him, placing it back unto the vanity as she smiled glowingly at the two of them.

"You are dismissed for the evening, Rose" Chuck said with a wink in her direction. Curtsying, the girl rushed from the bedroom; anxious to share the romantic scene she had just witnessed with the staff.

Blair shivered as she felt Chuck's warm fingers caress the nape of her neck as he draped the heavy diamond necklace around her delicate throat. Instead of moving away he stayed behind her, his hands lightly caressing the curve of her neck and the soft roundness of her shoulders. Blair quivered under his touch, feeling hot and cold all at once. Leaning in he kissed her shoulder, his lips soft and gentle as the touch of a rose.

"Beautiful," he whispered reverently.

Afraid of her response, her susceptibility to his touch, Blair pulled away and turned to face him. "Thank you, Chuck" she said with stiff formality.

As if he understood her attempt to cover up her vulnerability he smirked, his eyes sparkling with hidden laughter.

"My Love, doesn't my gift deserve the slightest reward? Perhaps a kiss, or something a bit more intimate," Chuck hinted with barely controlled lust.

"Of course," Blair said with a devious smile. Stepping close to him she embraced him in the friendliest of hugs. For just a second her lips hovered dangerously close to his before she turned to kiss him perfunctorily on the cheek, like a respectful daughter would give to her father.

Disappointment flaring in his eyes at her act Chuck was tempted to seize her and kiss her properly; like a woman of her fire and beauty should be kissed, but good sense won out. To treat her such like would just bring out her anger and ire and while that fascinated and turned him on to an unbelievable extent, tonight was a night for wooing and not brute force. So instead he put his arms around her, his hand reaching up to cup the side of her face. Leaning in he placed tiny kisses along her jaw line and the curve of her neck and to his delight he felt her lean into him.

Blair's eyes fluttered shut as she breathed in his clean scent. Clenching her fists at her sides she forced them not to reach out and touch his clean shaven cheeks, pulling him into a kiss. As she melted into him, her curves softening against his hardness, she felt desire and a wish to forever this way in his embrace.

Feeling her body fit into his as if they were made as one he swooped down to capture her lips. For the first time in his life he miscalculated, trying to take more than what his partner was willing to give.

Scared at her weakness and the ease at which she so easily fell into the enemy's arms, Blair pulled away. Chest heaving she took several steps back leaving nothing but heated air between them.

Anger flashed across Chuck's face only to be quickly replaced by disinterest. He tried not to be hurt at her rejection of his kiss, but it stung. Bitter eyes raked her, his mouth contorting into an ugly frown.

"It seems we have a return to the virginal theatrics of our wedding night," he said with a coldness that chilled Blair to her very core. "You are my wife, Blair and you promised you would give our wager a chance."

Blair's head rose in affront. "I will not be kissed like one of your common strumpets because you have deigned to give me a gift for services that are supposed to be rendered."

"My 'common strumpets', as you so disdainfully call them, would never have received a gift like this. This diamond set belonged to my mother and only to my wife would I ever pass it down.

While looking properly chastised Blair refused to give in. "My kisses cannot be bought. They must be earned. I shall be no man's mistress."

"Obviously," Chuck said shortly. "Because for a gift such as this a mistress would spread her legs and offer to give me whatever exotic pleasure I wished for."

"Do you really want a bride you can buy with a diamond necklace?" Blair hissed. "If so take me now and have it over with. I will lay here and think of all the ways I hate you and never again will you be welcome in my bedroom. I shall be as cold to you as the snow and ice in the Russian tundra."

Chuck shook his head, trying to clear his anger. This was not the way he had wanted this evening to go. Instead of wooing her with his gift and his kisses he had somehow managed to insult her. "The thought of you brought to our bed as a bridal sacrifice does little to appeal to me." Chuck's voice deepened, grew husky, as he continued: "When I bed you it will be because without me you live in torture and the thought of my lips, my tongue on your body are all you can think about."

"That will never happen." Blair breathed. "I hate you and there will never come a time that I will willingly fall for your cheap tricks. I will not be bought."

Taking a deep breath Chuck said slyly, "But you already have been. Your parents sold you to me with the Queens blessing. Don't think I am unaware of the clause in our marriage contract that allows a son of our union to inherit your father's title and estate."

"That is different," Blair argued, not quite able to hide the distress in her eyes.

"Is it really? Sweet Blair. Bought and sold you are already mine. For now I enjoy this dance, this wager between us, but don't ever forget that you are my wife. "

Blair dug her nails deep into the palms of her hands. "So you admit you will not uphold your end of the bargain if I don't fall in love with you? You will still press for your marital rights?"

Chuck smiled deviously, "No, I will uphold our wager because I have no doubt that in time you will love me. No woman has ever been able to resist me."

"Then Your Grace, you have met the rarest of women because I can guarantee I will never love you," Blair said with a toss of her head, even as she felt the gravest of misgivings.

"We shall see, My Love," Chuck replied with a maddening smugness that made Blair's teeth ache.

As he held out his arm for her, Blair had no choice but to accept. Making their way down the stairs of the main staircase Blair was not unaware of the way the staff suddenly seemed to appear to work in their near vicinity. It appeared that half the servants had shown up to catch a glimpse of the Duke and Duchess going to their first public event as man and wife.

Chuck handed Blair into the carriage and took the seat next to her, they talked of the weather as if the last scene in the bedroom had never taken place. Chuck lazily closed his eyes as if he intended to sleep, but Blair swore she could still feel them on her. They rode in silence as they made their way into the heart of London. Blair tried to ignore him, to focus on anything but him and the way his thigh pressed against hers. Finally, she could take it no longer.

"Chuck!" She burst out.

Opening his eyes, he regarded her indolently, his lips twisting into a half smile. "Yes, My Love?" he said in a honeyed tone.

Blair fumbled with the sticks of her silk fan, avoiding his gaze. "While I realize our marriage is hardly the result of a grand love affair I think it best that we at least play the charade in public. "

"Why is that?" Chuck asked, his smile reaching his eyes.

"It is - after all - what the world expects…at least according to the tabloids," Blair replied lamely.

"Since when do you care what the tabloids think?" Chuck asked with a suspiciously mischievous tone in his voice.

"I don't!" Blair retorted sharply. Taking a deep calming breath she continued: "It is just that I can't bear the thought of society knowing the true nature of my marriage."

"Which would be that you attempted to shoot me on our wedding night and ever since our wager it has taken every once of your will power to resist my kisses?" Chuck asked laughingly.

"Yes! I mean no." Blair said, frowning. "What I mean is that I would prefer to show the world that we are happily married and very much in love."

With a half laugh, Chuck looked at her smugly. "You realize that this gives me all the ammunition I need to win my wager? Having you act love struck and submissive will only make you more susceptible to my wooing.

"I don't think you understand," Blair replied with irritation. "I meant that _we_ and not just _I _show that we are happily married and in love. "

"Just how would you like me to show the world my love for you? With kisses and caresses in shadowy ballroom corners?" Chuck asked, wagging his eyebrows at her. "You are making it very easy for me to win our wager."

Blair stared at Chuck intently. "Did you ever think that perhaps it is you who will succumb to me? That just maybe you will be the one falling in love with me?"

Tilting his head Chuck considered the matter. "Perhaps you are right and I will fall in love with you. It is true that when you are near I find myself unable to think of anything but bedding you."

"That is another thing, I would appreciate it greatly if you would refrain from publicly flirting or arranging your love affairs while I am present," Blair replied stiffly, once more fiddling with the sticks of her fan. "Who you bed in your private time is your business, but when we are in public I at least want your respect if not your love. "

"I swear I shall only have eyes for you tonight, My Love." Chuck said silkily. "With that lithe figure and magnificent bosom how could I ever look at another?"

Blair looked at him disdainfully. "I am quite sure you will manage to ogle half the female population before the night is done. Just keep it respectful and out of sight."

His eyes shone with sincerity as his gaze caught hers. "No, tonight is about loving you and you can expect the full charade of loving husband at your side. I shall work hard at my half of the wager and hope by evening's end you will be mine."

"And I too shall work hard on my half of the wager, playing the devoted wife and hope by evening's end you will be mine, and I will finally have earned the right to have you removed from my bed chamber," Blair replied dryly.

"Let the games begin then, Sweetheart," Chuck said with a sparkle in his eyes.

* * *

Arriving at the ball Chuck escorted Blair up the staircase where the host, Lord Grenville, stood greeting guests with his wife.

"Your Grace," Lord Grenville said with a small bow in Chuck's direction. "We are honored by your presence and that of your lovely new wife."

Chuck smiled jovially, his arm tightening around Blair's waist and pulling her closer. "Lord Grenville, I would like to introduce the new Duchess of Devon, Blair Bass.

Lord Grenville bowed once more, his wife curtsying before the Duke and Duchess.

"Such a pleasure," Blair murmured, as she looked over Lady Grenville's appearance; unable to keep from noticing that her gown was at least several months behind fashion wise. Lady Grenville was obviously clueless to the latest trends and as such she would be an easy conquest.

"Your Grace, looks beautiful," Lady Grenville gushed, her blonde ringlets dangling as she bobbed her head up and down. "That dress is truly a work of art."

"Thank you," Blair said disinterestedly. "It was made by Charles Worth. You really must check out his studio on Bond Street."

"I would love to," Lady Grenville responded breathlessly. "But I am afraid he is not taking new clients. I have been told it will be months before I can get an appointment."

Blair waved her hand regally, as if she was proffering a great honor. "Then you must let me provide an introduction. Mr. Worth produced most of my trousseau and as such I believe I am owed a favor or two. "

"Could you?" Her hostess asked excitedly, clapping her hands in joy.

To Blair's delight, she realized she could. As a Duchess there was little Mr. Worth could do but honor her request. Not only was she a walking advertisement for his artistic creations, but she also had the ability to -with a few complaints- blackball him completely. Heady with power she offered Lady Grenville a gracious smile. "Of course. I will send him a note to let him know you will be making an appointment."

Chuck watched the whole exchange with fascination. He knew exactly what Blair was up to and it both amused him and filled him with pride. His wife wasn't only beautiful, but clever as well. Befriending Lady Grenville was a wise move as Lord Grenville was high up in the political party currently in power in Parliament. To be accepted in their circle of friends brought Blair directly into the heart of politics.

With a small shake of his head, Chuck led Blair away from their host and hostess and into the ballroom. To his dismay they were met head on by Lord Archibald.

"Your Grace," Nate greeted with a graceful bow.

Chuck watched with annoyance as Blair's face lit up.

"Lord Archibald," Blair replied, dipping her head in his direction.

Nate held out his arm. "I have come to collect on that dance you promised me."

Blair laid her fingers on his arm and smiled warmly up at him. "I am honored."

Scowling - his eyes growing stormy - Chuck found it very hard to remain civil. "Don't you think the first dance of the evening should go to your very much adoring husband? We are happily married after all," he said shortly, holding out his arm for Blair.

Chastened for just a moment; Nate handed Blair over to Chuck. "Sorry. Can't blame me for wanting to dance with the prettiest girl here."

With a scornful look Chuck swept Blair unto the dance floor before she had a chance to protest.

They stood there, their eyes meeting as something unknown passed between them. Then the orchestra struck up a waltz and Blair was in his arms spinning around the dance floor. His large warm hand held her dainty fingers and instead of holding them palm-to-palm he interlaced their digits - making their hands as one. His other arm wound round her to touch the small of her back, pushing her even closer. Close enough for her to hear the thumping of his heart through the orchestral strings of the music. For a moment she was transported back in time; to the night of their wedding and the tender kiss they had shared. Remembering the gentleness and sweetness of his kiss, a smile blossomed across her face.

"You are truly beautiful when you smile," Chuck whispered huskily in her ear.

Something warm and slow like honey spread through her at his words. Sensing her mood Chuck drew her even closer, his thigh brushing intimately between her legs. Beneath the bodice of her dress he could see her nipples tightening where they grazed his chest.

Blair inhaled sharply as a bittersweet ache rose in her breast and her heart beat faster, her cheeks growing hot and flushed.

Ogled and watched by the ton, any doubts or suspicions society had about their hasty wedding were instantly put to rest by their very intimate display on the dance floor.

As soon as the dance ended Nate was there to take Chuck's place. Blair smiled up at Nate, relieved to be out of Chuck's arms and in the safety of someone who didn't make her feel such intense and mixed emotions. Settling in Lord Archibald's arms, she tried to replicate what she felt with Chuck, to somehow prove that what she had experienced with him was not anything special and could be recreated with any other young man. To her extreme fury she felt nothing when she danced with Nate, no tingling, no heart palpitations, nothing.

If looks could maim Lord Archibald would be filled with holes the way Chuck was staring at him right now. Hot and blinding jealousy burned in his chest as he watched Blair gracefully dance in his best friend's arms. Heading to the bar, he ordered a glass of scotch and drained it in one gulp. The liquid scalded his stomach, but did little to erase the tension he felt in every muscle in his body. When Lady Bellgrave greeted him with a bold smile and an invitation in her eyes, it took all of his will power not to give in to her flirtation.

Blair glanced at her husband out of the corner of her eye and to her disgust she saw Chuck talking to a woman in a scandalously low cut red dress. Turning her head away in disappointment, she caught Nate staring at her with something akin to pity.

"You can't blame him, Blair," Nate said in her ear. "He is drawn to them like a moth to a flame."

"He best be careful he doesn't get his wings singed," she replied spitefully.

Biting the inside of her cheek Blair watched the woman - who was most certainly not a lady - place her hand on Chuck's arm.

As the dance finished, Nate pulled Blair in the opposite direction of Chuck; not wishing his partner to be hurt further by his best friends antics.

"Do you game at all?" he asked as he searched his brain for a way to distract Blair and keep her away from Chuck.

Blair gave him a steely glance as she guessed exactly what he was trying to do. "I play a little cards," she finally replied.

"Fancy a game?" Nate asked, as he steered her towards the smoky gaming room.

Blair considered the matter. Gaming was still considered a gentlemen's domain and not necessarily proper for a young lady. For one brief moment she considered her reputation, but then she realized that since Chuck seemed not to care not about his - why should she bother? One minute out of her company and he was already flirting and no doubt arranging an assignation for later. She might as well have what little fun a married woman with money could have and without a backward glance, Blair accepted.

After almost half an hour spent deflecting Lady Belgrave's innuendos Chuck finally managed to extricate himself from her grasp. Not seeing his wife on the dance floor he immediately searched the dining room, the gardens and furiously the bedrooms upstairs. While he found many couples in various states of undress, thankfully he didn't find his wife and his best friend.

Chuck frantically ran his fingers through his hair as he stood at the edge of the ballroom, once more searching the dancers for his wife.

"Your wife, she has spirit, that one," Lord Ravenwood spouted as he stood next to Chuck.

Looking at the elderly, grizzled gentlemen in puzzlement Chuck searched for the right response. Not wishing to let on that he had no clue where his wife was he just nodded.

"She'll give you fine sons. Wild and headstrong she needs a firm hand on the reins if you know what I mean," Lord Ravenwood joked.

"I know just what you mean," Chuck said grimly. Clenching and unclenching his fists he was tortured with thoughts of his wife and what she was doing. He couldn't believe that she had just walked off without him, especially after all her talk about putting on a united front and protecting their image.

Lord Ravenwood cocked a brow in Chuck's direction. "Full of fire she is. Never much cared for that, but damn the girl can play a fine hand of cards."

Chuck choked, coughing and sputtering as he suddenly realized where Blair was. Chuckling, Lord Ravenwood smacked him smartly on the back. "I wonder if you are up for the challenge?" The old man laughed.

"I'm up for it," Chuck replied shortly, as he started for the gaming room. Stopping midway he turned around, "Personally I've always like a little fire in my women," he drawled with a last look at Lord Ravenwood. Leaving the ballroom he could still hear the older man's laughter echoing in his ears.

A crowd thronged around one of the baize gaming tables in Lord Grenville's salon. A steady and intense hum of tension filled the room as everyone watched the Duchess of Devon win her fourth hand in a row. With a small squeal of laughter Blair added another pile of money to her winnings.

"I'm out, your Grace," Lord Gray said as he pushed his chair away from the table. "You have cleaned my clock."

Blair was about to reply when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"My Love, you started without me," Chuck whispered low in her ear.

Nathaniel looked up from his cards at Chuck and what he read in his friends face made him suddenly wish for a hole to bury himself in. "I think her Grace was about to retire," he said, shamefacedly.

"Join us, Your Grace," Lord Hobart shouted out, his cheeks already red with drink. "It is an extraordinary day indeed when one finds themselves playing cards not only with a Duchess, but her husband the Duke as well."

"With pleasure," Chuck said amicably, taking Lord Gray's seat.

Blair gulped as Chuck sat down, all around her she could hear the hum and steady drone of gossip.

"I believe it is your deal, Blair," Chuck said with a wink.

Shaking her head with a small laugh, Blair shuffled the cards with ease and dealt the deck. Her father, never having had a son, had taught her to gamble from the time she had learned her numbers. She had never doubted her ability to win when pitted against so many gentlemen, who were already tipsy from too much drink. With Chuck, however, she was unsure of where she stood. Looking into his indecipherable eyes and seeing the skilled way he held his cards, for the first time she was unsure of the outcome of the game.

As the cards were played and the bets were made, Blair held her breath. Nate and Lord Hobart folded almost immediately, laying their cards face down on the table. Staring intently at her cards, Blair tried to figure out her next move.

"Your turn, My Love," Chuck drawled.

"You're right. It is my turn." Flushing hotly at her lapse, Blair drew another card. Clenching her cards tightly she tried to drown out the gossip and stares thrown her way at Chuck's endearment. Ignoring the surprised looks among the women who had finally started to congregate with the men around the table she watched as Chuck drew three cards.

Now it was her turn once more. Smiling triumphantly she laid down her hand, she knew she had won. There was no way her suite of Diamonds could be beat.

Chuck's dark eyes flickered briefly and then he showed his hand. Giving her a smirk, he pushed the winnings over into her pile.

"Well done, Your Grace, but I am afraid that is it for me," Lord Hobart said with a yawn as he rose from the table.

"Then we shall simply need to find another player," Blair said hastily. She was suddenly very afraid of the game being over and once more being alone with Chuck. At least if she kept playing they were at opposite ends of the table and she could keep an eye on him.

Nate tugged at his shirt collar as he looked over at Chuck. It took him only seconds to make his decision. While Chuck had all the appearance of a bored aristocrat Nate knew better. There was an air about him, something dangerous, intensive and challenging, and Nate knew when it was best not to interfere. "I believe there is a young lady in need of a dance partner," he said rising from the table.

Blair desperately searched around the room for other players as she was left facing her husband. "It appears we need two new players?" Blair pleaded.

Chuck lounged casually in his chair, his very gaze daring the crowd to step in between husband and wife.

"How about we make this more interesting, Blair," Chuck said softly, tapping his elegant fingers on the table. "Since we are already playing with our money, why not play for something of more value?"

Blair's spine stiffened in shock. Surely he wasn't suggesting that they play for her virginity? That was the only thing of value she had to offer and she couldn't believe, as crass as her husband was, he would acknowledge their situation so publicly.

Lowering her voice so only Chuck could hear, Blair spoke succinctly. "How dare you."

"I dare anything where you are concerned, My Love. Haven't you figured that out by now," Chuck answered under his breath.

The crowd held it's breath as they waited to hear to hear Chuck's wager. Duke Bass had always been a wild card, his antics long talked about. For him to publicly challenge his wife to a game of cards would give the ton something to gossip about for days.

"What would you have us play for, Your Grace?" Blair asked with disinterest even as her eyes sparkled in anger.

"A kiss," he stated simply. His tone was at odds with his eyes as they raked Blair, challenging her. "If I win I get a kiss and I keep your winnings to do with as I please. If I lose I am denied the sweetness of your lips and my rights to your winnings.

Blair wrinkled her nose in disbelief as several ladies near her started to swoon at the romantic notion of a husband wagering a kiss from his new bride. Not only that but he was offering to let her have her winnings to do with as she pleased. He would take no cut of them. Such generosity from husbands was generally unheard off.

Staring down at the thousands of pound notes before her, she realized she could care less about keeping the money. It was the kiss that left her in a quandary. She didn't know if she wanted him to win or not. If she took this bet he had every chance of winning and collecting from her something that shook her to her core. She knew she could not kiss him and keep herself neutral, repress all emotion. His kisses made her vulnerable in a way she had never expected.

She started to decline, but then caught sight of his eyes. They were laughing at her. Deep inside he expected her to back out and something inside her snapped. Setting her jaw she tossed the cards to Chuck. "I accept."

The crowd hooted and shouted at this strange and remarkable turn of events.

"A single card each, highest card wins, agreed?"

Speechless, Blair could only nod.

"If you would shuffle please, Lord Archibald?" Chuck commanded.

"Of course," Nate said nervously, his hands clumsily dropping the cards several times. Laying the deck out on the table he waited for one of them to draw.

"Ladies first," Chuck challenged.

Blair's hands trembled. Reaching down the table she cut the deck and pulled a card. Closing her eyes, she steeled herself for what was to come. Slowly opening her eyes she saw the Queen of Hearts and finally she allowed herself to relax. Only a few cards ranked higher and the possibility of Chuck getting any of them was slim to none.

"How very appropriate," Chuck drawled.

Dizzy with relief, she turned to Chuck. "I believe it is your turn, Your Grace," she said smugly, highly pleased with herself.

Giving her a slightly mocking glance Chuck reached forward and cut the deck. With a confident air he plucked a card from the pile and held it aloft.

Blair read it and her heart sank to her knees. "The King of Diamonds," she said in a hushed voice.

"So it would seem, My Love," Chuck said with a maddening delight.

Almost as if at once the crowd began chanting "Kiss, Kiss, Kiss."

Looking mortified, Blair rose from her chair only to find that Chuck's arm had snaked its way around her waist.

"Shall we give them what they want? Shall I collect on my wager now, or perhaps tonight when we are in bed alone together?" Chuck asked, his voice filled with passion.

"You would really kiss me here in front of these gawking crowds as if we are a circus act?" Blair retorted harshly.

"No," Chuck said smoothly. "I much prefer to kiss you when there is nothing between us but the silk of your nightgown. "

"Here it is, then," Blair said quickly, tilting her head and pursing her lips in his direction.

She expected a quick peck, something circumspect, but Chuck wasn't about to leave any doubts as to the state of things between him and his wife. He wanted every young buck and Lord in the kingdom to see that Blair was his, and even though he had not yet bedded her he wanted there to be no doubt in anyone's mind that he had made her his on their wedding night. Leaning in he hauled her roughly to him and kissed her. It wasn't a gentle kiss, but a hot ravaging one. A kiss that branded her to the whole world as his. It was the kiss he had wanted from her for a long time, one that he had laid awake dreaming of just last night.

For several frozen minutes she didn't respond, but then her lips parted, soft and tender underneath his. Through the silk of her dress he could feel her breasts tighten into buds, and it took every ounce of propriety to remember where he was. With a groan he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing across hers, dueling hers for dominance, and she met him, keeping pace. The sweetness of her response made his trousers tight and restrictive and he suddenly realized that if they didn't stop they would be putting on a show for the whole ton. With tiny kisses around her mouth he pulled away, leaving her breathless and aching for more.

Drawing apart from each other Blair and Chuck were amazed by the hoots and catcalls of the crowd. They had created a scandal that would be talked about for decades; one where it would be told that a husband so in love with his wife gambled a fortune on a kiss.

Catching sight of their host, Chuck called out, "Forgive our hasty departure, but her Grace and I have much to…" He paused before drawling out lasciviously, "discuss."

Lewd laughter and jealous titters greeted his jest. Overwhelmed with emotion from the kiss Blair was at a loss for words. Quiet and overcome she allowed him to lead her out of the gaming salon and into the carriage. As if he sensed her inner turmoil, Chuck wisely didn't press his advantage. They rode in silence all the way home.

Arriving home Blair didn't even glance in Chuck's direction. Making her way up to her bedroom, she sat as still as a statue as Rose and Mrs. Miller chattered away while undressing her. When at last it came time to chose a nightgown, Rose brought out a transparent one of the thinnest white chiffon. This at last was what roused her from her lethargy. She was not about to wear a nightgown that screamed seduction. Making her way to the wardrobe she pulled out one of her older nightgowns, a cotton one with a high neck and long hem.

"Surely you don't plan on wearing that?" Asked Mrs. Miller her eyes scrunching into disapprovingly lines.

"This gown is perfect for sleeping," Blair said loftily.

"Shouldn't a woman dress for her husband?" Rose asked with uncertainty.

Blair stared them both down until they were forced to look away. "I am mistress here and I shall wear what I please. "

Mrs. Miller grumbled under her breath about the begetting of heirs before a stern look from Blair shut her up.

Dressing Blair in the cotton gown as if she was in pain Rose accomplished her task. Finished she started brushing out Blair's hair into long ringlets that ran down her back.

"Braid it please, Rose."

"Surely your husband would prefer your curls. You have such lovely hair," Rose piped up.

Staring at her kissed and swollen lips in the mirror, Blair answered angrily, "Just do as I ask."

Mrs. Miller sighed in the background and Rose looked as if she might cry, but they performed their duties and left Blair alone.

Sitting stiffly in one of the wing back chairs Blair waited for Chuck to arrive. Longingly she looked to the pistols still hidden in her trunk. She wanted once more to take them out, to use them as a barrier between the two of them, but she had given her word. They would see this wager out. She would some how have to make him love her without giving up her integrity or whoring herself out sexually.

Chuck entered the room stealthily a huge grin upon his face and champagne glasses in hand. Upon catching sight of Blair dressed severely her beautiful long hair constrained to a single braid; his grin faded to a look of extreme discontent.

"You look like a nun," he said unpleasantly.

"I'm sorry if you find what I am wearing offensive," Blair replied sweetly.

Chuck set the glasses down on one of the bedside tables. "It does actually offend me," he retorted with a scowl. "From now on I expect to see you wear the night clothes suitable for a wife newlywed to her husband. And I want to see your hair hanging loose."

"And what if I refuse?" Blair asked with a courage she did not feel.

Crossing the room to her side, he cupped her face none to gently in his hands. "Then our wager is forfeit and I take what the law already says is mine."

Blair blanched, fear eating away at her insides. She thought of Chuck seeing her all but naked, his eyes devouring her flesh, and she felt heat rise in her belly like an inferno.

"Why does it matter? You have promised not to bed me unless I fall in love with you," Blair said shortly, hiding the way her knees were shaking.

"And I won't fall in love with you if you don't put some effort into our wager," Chuck explained patiently. "With your body you have power over me. You know I want you, use this knowledge to your advantage."

A dozen emotions flitted across Blair face as she considered what he was saying. He was offering her away to get close to him on her terms, perhaps even captivate him enough that his lust would turn to love. If she didn't know any better she would believe that deep down he truly wanted to fall in love with her, the way he was helping her with his wager.

"All right," she said softly, color rushing into cheeks. "Tomorrow I dress for my husband, but that doesn't give you the right to take advantage."

Chuck laid his hand over his heart," I swear to only take what you offer." Sitting down on the settee he patted the place next to him. "Sit with me Blair."

"Must I?" she asked nervously, afraid at being so close to him in such a state of undress. She greatly feared he wore nothing under his heavy velvet robe.

Giving her his most innocent smile that somehow managed to still look wicked; he held out a flute of champagne for her. "I only wish to talk of our future. One in which you fall madly in love with me."

Blair rolled her eyes, but still seated herself at his side. Taking a deep breath she steeled herself for what she was about to say. "I do not want to love you."

Chuck smiled at her wolfishly. "Of course you do. With your fiery and sensual nature only someone like me could ever please you in bed. Besides it is just a matter of time. I am your husband and it is only natural that you will fall in love with me."

"Then it is only natural that you will fall in love with me allowing me to win our wager. Then you'll be forced to take your lust elsewhere." Blair replied, taking a deep drink of her champagne and all but draining the glass.

Chuckling, Chuck finished his drink. "Spend the day with me tomorrow."

"I will be working all day on repairing and refurbishing," she paused for a moment, at the foreignness of what she was about to say, "Our house."

"Then let me help. It has been decades since I haunted the rooms here. Give me a tour, show me your handiwork, your plans," Chuck replied as he poured himself another glass of champagne and refilled Blair's flute.

Blair looked at him with concern, thoughts of what Rose and Mrs. Miller had told her of Chuck's childhood running through her head.

"Are you sure that is what you want, Chuck? It really isn't necessary if you would prefer I handle all the changes and refurbishments.

Chuck looked her in the eyes steadfastly. "It would be my pleasure to see our home through your eyes."

Pleased, the champagne bubbles already racing through her blood, she leaned back into the settee. More comfortable than she had been in days she let the alcohol wash over her.

His eyes darkening into pinpricks of desire Chuck leaned forward to gently cup her face. Heady with champagne, Blair leaned into the warmth and strength of his hand.

"With your permission, may I kiss you?" Chuck asked, surprising himself at his own gentleness and courtliness towards his wife. He wasn't used to asking a woman permission to kiss her. At her wary look he rushed to reassure her. "Nothing more than a kiss and you can stop me at any time, I swear."

Floating in the warmth and dizzying effects of the champagne, Blair leaned into Chuck. She remembered the sweetness and passion of their earlier kisses and the pleasure they wrought from deep within; and she wanted to experience those sensations once more. Closing her eyes, she reached out to brush her rose petal lips against his.

Chuck - to his disgust - felt himself tremble at her touch. With her lips and tongue she nibbled softly at the corners of his mouth sending shivers up and down his spine. A long slow kiss followed, then another and then her tongue was in his mouth tentatively touching his. Her kiss while innocent and naive was the most erotic and desirable kiss he had ever experienced. He wanted to rip her burlap sack of a nightgown off and take her right there on the floor of their bedroom. Instead he groaned and cursed the wager he had made.

Blair's nervousness and tension eased as she tilted her head to get better access to his lips. Her hands reached out to touch his shoulders and he put his arms around her and pulled her closer. Her breasts grazed his chest and she fought the tender ache to rub them against him. Chuck could no longer hold back, taking over he deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking her possessively. Locking his arms tightly around her, his kiss grew more and more passionate.

Blair swooned in his arms, her body growing soft and pliant in his embrace. Caught up in his heavenly kisses she didn't even notice when one of his hands strayed to the buttons on the front of her nightgown. Unbuttoning first one and then another button his finger stroked the silky skin of her neck and the hollow of her throat. Murmuring in protest as his lips left hers, she moaned as his mouth laid tiny little butterfly kisses down the curve of her neck. Pulling at the neck of her nightgown Chuck bared one perfect creamy shoulder.

The cold air of the room hitting her shoulder was what finally woke her from the spell he had put on her. She couldn't, _would_ not, be another one of his many conquests no matter how delicious he made her feel. With a small cry, she pushed him away. With tears in her eyes, she faced him, afraid of what he might do.

Chuck's, his mind in a fog, reached over once more to draw her into his arms, to lose himself once more to her sweetness, only to have her shove him away harder.

"Chuck!" She said frantically.

Opening his eyes, he searched her face. Seeing her stricken eyes were the only clues he needed. He had frightened her, gone too far too fast, but he hadn't been able to help it. What he felt with her was something so different, so special. He wanted too bury himself in her, surround himself with her essence.

"Forgive me, I got carried away." Twining his fingers in hers, he raised her hand gently to his lips.

Blair blinked back tears, his soft and kind tone made her want him to kiss her even more. Looking away, she swallowed hard. "I…am sorry. I just can't."

Chuck looked at the floor, suddenly very unsure of himself and his skills in the bedroom. Never before had a woman rejected him.

"Why? You enjoyed it. I know you did," he asked, a barely there hint of vulnerability in his voice.

"I did…I just can't be another conquest for you. I need, no, I _want_ more than that from this marriage. I don't want what my parents had; a cold marriage where my father sought his pleasures elsewhere." There was so much she wanted to say, so much more her heart desired. For the first time it hit her that maybe she wanted more of this marriage then she had first dreamed possible. Maybe she did want his love, to be his one and only.

Chuck's eyes widened in astonishment, her honesty striking him right to the core. "I am beginning to think you could never be simply another conquest." What he failed to tell her was what he was terribly afraid of; that he might already be half in love with her. It was entirely possible she could win her wager, but would he win his? Could there be a happy ever after for them?

"I rushed you, next time—."

"There will be no next time, Chuck," Blair sighed tiredly. "This isn't going to work. Surely you can see that we are at an impasse."

"Tell me you didn't like it - that you didn't want me - and I promise I will never kiss you again."

Blair wanted to lie, to tell him he would only ever be an enemy to her, but she found she couldn't. Not when he looked at her with such pleading eyes.

Staring at his powerful chest, remembering how it had felt to have his arms safely around her while he kissed her was enough to bring heat to her chest and cause desire to pool between her thighs. She couldn't lie, not about this.

"I liked it, for a little while, until reality stepped in."

Letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, Chuck smiled with relief. "Then we will try again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Blair questioned faintly.

"And every night until one of us wins our wager."

Blair stared at him angrily. The thought of playing this dance nightly, him manipulating her with his body until she had no choice but to give in infuriated her. In that moment she hated him and most importantly hated herself for being so susceptible to him.

"There will be no more displays of this nature in the future," Blair retorted. "We are finished."

Chuck set his jaw tightly, his brows furrowing with frustration as he guarded his heart. "We're not finished until _I_ say we are finished."

Pulling her hand from Chuck's, Blair rose from the settee, her head now completely clear of the intoxicating champagne.

Tired - mentally and physically - Chuck walked over to the bed and pushed aside the embroidered butterfly bed hangings. Holding out his hand for her to join him he waited patiently. Stabbing him with her eyes, she waited for him to give up. When she realized he wasn't giving up and she could either sleep on the settee or the floor she gave in with a huff and placed her hand in his. Walking up the few platform steps to the great bed she let him lay her down on the bed and tuck the heavy satin coverlet around her. She tried not to look as he removed his robe, but found that she couldn't resist peeking. To her dismay or satisfaction, she wasn't quite sure which; she found he wore silk pajamas under his robe. As he climbed into bed next to her she slid as far away from him as she could.

Chuckling at her antics Chuck merely moved in closer to her until she lay on the very edge of the bed. Laying on his side so he could look at her he grasped her hand in his, kissing each digit one by one slowly as she closed her eyes.

"Good night, My Love," he said sweetly squeezing her hand tightly in his.

Blair turned away from him to face the bed hangings, but she left her hand in his as she fell asleep.

* * *

Thanks to my many lovely reviewers: Charmander, Syrianora, SnowedUnderNJ, HnM skinnys, MARIANNA, moccamary, Poinsettia, dreamgurl, ggff-fan., Blood Red Kiss of Death, cakebakery, RedheadObsession, QueenHoa, Dulwich Said, Whitney1812, annablake, BassBillionaire, Edwardslover09, Sabaku no Uchiha, .beauty, Izzie, xoxochuckandblairxoxo, Bethany, LisaLevine, tvrox12, -Melody of Words-, Dramadiva22p, guardian izz, blair4eva, Lyn, READER120, ronan03, kure yui, kousi, The Very Last Valkyrie, KillerNewton, fadingtales, Bye11, Lil Miss Chuckles, abelard, smartin555, Krazy4Spike, Krism, Cblover1995, BassKingdom, flipped, BrittyKay247, Myra 'Trory' Dork, TriGemini and walkerlu.

Thanks to Camilla and Chole for the beta work.


	5. Chapter 5

Blair awakened slowly, unaware at first of where she was. She felt warm, almost as if she was surrounded by a heavenly cloud of heat. Snuggling her head deeper into the downy pillows, she was surprised to find hardness instead of softness. Upon stretching her limbs she found that they seemed to be entwined with something heavy and solid. Comfortable, she drowsily fluttered one eye open to find herself staring straight up into Chuck's smirking face. With a squeak of horror she sat up, frantically attempting to detach herself from Chuck only to find her fingers fisted in his satin pajama top and her legs firmly wrapped around his.

"How dare you? Take your hands off me," she sputtered angrily.

"I believe it is you who should unhand me," Chuck said coolly

"Move over, move over!" she exclaimed, removing her hand from his pajama shirt and unfurling her legs from his.

Chuck's chest rumbled with repressed laughter. "You're on my side of the bed."

Blair's gaze searched the bed suspiciously, her cheeks pinking when she realized that Chuck had spoken the truth. Scooting away from him, she put as much distance between them as she could.

"I didn't realize…I didn't mean to molest—"

"I'm sure you didn't," Chuck replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Although I must admit, I enjoyed every minute."

Arising from the bed, Chuck stretched and Blair couldn't help the way her eyes were drawn to his long lean figure. Swallowing thickly, she quickly looked away as Chuck caught her looking at him.

"Keep looking at me like that and I am not sure I will be able to keep my hands of you, wager or not," Chuck said throatily

Hopping out of bed, Blair grabbed the velvet dressing gown Rose had laid out for her on one of the wing back chairs the night before. Making her way to her vanity table she turned to look at Chuck hesitantly.

"Thank you for keeping your word and not taking advantage of me." Blair smiled at Chuck shyly, her heart suddenly feeling light for the first time. That he had behaved like a perfect gentleman gave her hope for their relationship. She never would have expected him to keep his hands to himself, to not take advantage of her and pursue his rights as husband. His actions filled her with a happiness she had not expected to find in her marriage. To her surprise she realized she had enjoyed waking up in his arms. Never before had she felt so protected and safe. It was just like she had always dreamed it would be when, as a young girl, she had fantasized about waking up in the arms of her husband. Only in those dreams the husband was someone she loved and cherished. While Chuck would never be that husband, perhaps they could have a friendship of sorts. Maybe if they became friendly enough, they could reach a point where the wager would not be necessary and they could just learn to live in harmony going their separate ways. For she knew with certainty that Chuck would never fall in love with her. He was not the type to ever be caught in love's trap and she had given up on love the minute her father had told her of her arranged marriage.

Looking at his wife, Chuck felt warmth seep into the dark recesses of his heart. Returning her smile with his own, he felt a happiness he had not previously known. Suddenly uncomfortable he cleared his throat, distracting himself by shrugging his robe on over his pajamas. Pulling a small pocketknife from his pocket, he slit his thumb, dribbling blood over the bed sheets.

Blair startled at his act, rushed to his side and yanked the knife away. "Chuck!" she exclaimed, "What on earth are you doing?"

At the sight of the blood on the pristine white sheets she swayed on her feet, only to be steadied by Chuck's strong arms.

Chuck smirked at her, even though his eyes were deadly serious. "It's bad enough the servants know I spent our wedding night in my own chambers. I won't have them gossiping about your lack of virginity."

Shocked, Blair steadied herself and gathering her control she walked over to her vanity table. Pulling out one of her monogrammed linen handkerchiefs, she wrapped it tenderly over his wound.

"You didn't have to do that," she said softly, gazing up at him with gratitude.

"Yes, I did. I won't have your name maligned. While we may not have consummated our marriage, it is none of the business of the servants and I will tolerate no talk."

Chuck put his arm around Blair, pulling her closer. "Blair, you 're trembling. If you are worried about my thumb, you shouldn't be. It only hurt for a second."

"It isn't that," she sniffed. "I just appreciate your wanting to protect my reputation." Never would she have expected such a sacrifice from him. She knew that the lack of consummation of their marriage would fall fully on her shoulders, and she would be blamed if ever their wager were exposed. It was a wife's responsibility to be there for her husband, to give in to all his physical demands. To refuse was something so unpardonable she knew she would be damned if ever the truth came out. In shedding his blood on the bed sheets, he had made the servants witness to their supposed consummation, forever preventing them from testifying otherwise in a divorce court. She would never be shamed for refusing her husbands advances.

Seeing concern in his eyes at her reaction, the gentle way he held her shaking body, she almost felt guilty that she couldn't be the type of wife he wanted.

Their faces inches apart Chuck leaned in softly, pressing his lips against hers in the gentlest and briefest kiss, and instead of fighting back, loathing him, she accepted his show of affection.

Chuck turned away, suddenly very afraid of the weakness he was showing. No lecherous comments, no snide innuendos. Instead he felt protective of his wife, wanting to reassure her of his care for her welfare.

Pulling away from her abruptly, he headed quickly for the communicating door to his bedroom without a backward glance.

Staring at the droplets of blood that marred the pristine whiteness of the sheets, Blair's heart softened like melted butter. Pulling the satin coverlet over the sheets, she rang for the maid. Almost as if they had been waiting outside the door, Rose and Mrs. Miller entered the room.

As Rose brushed Blair's hair, Mrs. Miller drew open the drapes and turned to the bed, stripping back the bedcovers. Through the reflection in the mirror Blair saw her pause over the bloodied sheet, a huge pleased smile crossing her face. Catching sight of Rose in the mirror, Mrs. Miller nodded and Rose blushed, almost faltering in her careful brushing of Blair's curls.

Suddenly very embarrassed, Blair quickly spoke up, "Rose, I think the yellow silk gown will do for today." As Rose rushed to pull it from the wardrobe, Mrs. Miller shook her head.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather spend the day abed? Perhaps some rest after last nights activities," she offered helpfully, a sparkle in her eye. "I could bring you breakfast in bed?"

If possible, Blair cheeks colored as bright as red apples. "His Grace is expecting me for breakfast," Blair replied stiffly.

Mrs. Miller grinned at Rose as she dressed the great bed in clean sheets.

"The furniture makers, upholsterers and all the fabrics you requested are waiting your direction downstairs. I and Rose will, of course, be at your service all day."

"Wonderful. I expect we shall make great progress today. If you would please see to the cleaning of the main rooms, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course, Your Grace," Mrs. Miller replied, curtsying.

Rose quickly dressed Blair in the yellow silk, threading a matching ribbon through her hair.

"What does it feel like to be a great married lady now, Your Grace?" Rose asked in an excited whisper.

Blair looked at her guiltily. She knew exactly what she was talking about, and she suddenly felt like the fraud she was.

"Don't be impertinent," Blair retorted, looking down her nose coldly at Rose.

Flushing guiltily, Rose gazed down at the floor. "Forgive me, Your Grace."

Pretending the last little scene had never taken place, Blair took one last look in the mirror before heading to the Breakfast room.

Chuck rose at her entrance, pulling out one of the cherry hardwood chairs for her.

"My Love, you look simply beautiful this morning. Apparently spending a night in bed with your husband agrees with you," Chuck said with a wink.

Blair looked at Mrs. Miller with mortification as she laid a plate of fresh fruit and a croissant in front of her. Trying not to be embarrassed, she poured a cup of tea from the sterling silver pot.

"How did you sleep? Last night was the best sleep I have had in years." Chuck's eyes danced at her devilishly, daring her. "For once the cuddling was the best part."

Blair almost choked on her tea at Chuck's taunt. It had felt like it had taken hours to fall asleep, her hand in his large one. If she had known she would wake up curled against him like a cat, she never would have been able to fall asleep. "I slept as well as could be expected," she finally answered curtly, not wishing to continue the conversation.

Picking up one of the newspapers that were laid out on the table, she was startled to see an illustration of her and Chuck arriving at Lord Grenville's Ball, the headline stating 'London's Love Birds First Night Out'. Following was a description of the ball, with their wager of a kiss over a game of cards taking up most of the article. It was even mentioned that their love match was one to rival even the Queen and her husband's. "Don't people have better things to report about then society gossip?," she asked, flinging the paper on the table.

Chuckling, the Duke picked up the paper, glancing at the article. "Get used to it, you are now a Duchess and a Bass and everything you do will make the papers. I do believe you have started a trend. I wouldn't be surprised to find marrying for love to become more common and husbands kissing wives in public to be the norm," he teased.

Blair wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I certainly hope not. Such displays of affection should be kept to the bedroom."

"Then perhaps that is where we should spend the day," Chuck said half-jokingly.

"No," Blair was quick to respond. "You promised to see my plans for the house."

"So I did," he said agreeably. "Let me just finish up some business correspondence and I am at your service."

Touched that he still planned to set aside half the day to her, even though she now knew just how busy his businesses kept him, she smiled happily to herself. Her breakfast hardly touched she rose to begin attending to the work that awaited her downstairs.

"Blair, you have hardly eaten," Chuck stated.

"I ate," Blair said defensively.

"Not enough to feed a bird. You will need your strength for the task ahead of you today." Chuck frowned as worry for his wife pricked at his heart. Never before had he cared about whether a woman had eaten or not, but for some reason he cared about Blair and her health. For her to eat so little, when she had a great need for energy today, made him nervous.

Blair stood rigidly, her stomach all tied in knots. It was true she had hardly eaten anything and she was still hungry, but Chuck somehow managed to get under her skin. He twisted her insides into knots until she felt she needed to get away from him and how he made her feel.

"Sit, Blair," Chuck commanded harshly.

Still she stood as stubborn as a mule.

Sighing, Chuck softened his tone. "My Love, please sit."

With a resigned air, Blair sat down stiffly.

Chuck searched the table of dishes for something to tempt Blair into eating. Finally, he settled upon a golden and still steaming waffle. Scooping it up onto a plate, he covered it with freshly whipped cream and strawberries. Cutting into it, he speared a cream smothered piece and held it to her lips.

"I can feed myself," Blair said contemptuously.

"So you can, but why deny me the pleasure?" he asked sweetly.

With an exasperated sigh, Blair opened her mouth and let him feed her first one piece and then another until most of the waffle was gone. Never before had she tasted anything so good. Spreading a strawberry with cream, Chuck offered it to her and she bit into it, the juices and cream spilling onto the corner of her mouth. Leaning in as quickly as a cat, Chuck placed his lips over the delicious smear, lapping it up with his tongue. The feel of Chuck's lips and tongue on the sensitive flesh sent hot and cold shivers down Blair's spine. As he pulled away, she found herself yearning for more, wanting him to claim her mouth with his. Suddenly very afraid, she leapt up from the table and with a mumbled excuse she ran from the room.

His trousers tight and his breathing heavy, Chuck watched her leave. He was so close he could feel it, but unlike any other woman he had ever known she fought him like he was the very devil. He wanted to kiss and caress her so terribly right then he was almost willing to promise her anything, even give up his mistresses if she would take him into her bed. She was winning their wager, and suddenly he was very afraid that he was about to loose everything.

* * *

Surrounded in sumptuous fabrics, Blair picked and discarded colors and textures until she found the exact look she wanted. Furniture was moved into piles to keep and refurbish and those to store away in the attics. Followed around most of the day by Rose and Mrs. Miller, note papers and ink pens in hand, she gave orders like a general going into battle. Having made her way through innumerable drawing and receiving rooms, she at last made it to the ballroom. Stepping through the double doors, she stared in awe at the line of glass French doors along one end and the row of gilded mirrors down the other. Leading out from the French doors were magnificently laid out gardens. The very same ones she could see from outside her bedroom window. Standing in the middle of the room surrounded by mirrors and glass, she felt as if she was at the center of a vast universe of light and greenery. Looking up at the multiple sparkling crystal chandeliers, she tried to imagine the effect of light and mirrors against the darkness of the night.

"Is it ever used?" she asked, her voice sounding very small in the large space.

Expecting an answer from Rose or Mrs. Miller, she was startled to hear Chuck's voice from behind her shoulder.

"Not since my mother's death," Chuck replied walking over to the French doors and looking out at the gardens.

Blair walked over to him, her hand lightly touching his shoulder before falling away. "It is almost a tragedy to see such beauty neglected."

He turned to look at her, his eyes shadowy and unreadable. Cupping her face gently with one hand, he smoothed her cheek with his thumb delicately as if she was made of the finest porcelain. "Yes, it is."

For a second Blair stood still, allowing the touch, almost leaning into it as her eyes fluttered closed. Then, with a small shake of her head almost as if she was waking from a dream, she slowly stepped away.

"What was it used for?" she asked lightly starting to walk the perimeter of the room, anything to distract her from the gentleness of his touch and how it set her heart afire.

"When my mother was alive there were numerous parties and dances and then, of course, we still practiced the tradition of the Annual Midsummer's Ball. For generations the Bass' always gave a Midsummer's Ball. It was a tradition that died with my mother's death," Chuck replied with guarded disinterest as he watched Blair's progress around the ballroom."

The mood of the room suddenly darkening, Blair slowly spun into a dance, her skirts unfurling around her like rose petals. "Perhaps it is time to revive the tradition," she said with a hopeful smile. "Bring this room back to life. This place was made for entertaining and dancing and it deserves to be shown for the beauty it is."

Through hooded eyes Chuck watched her, his heart filled with conflicting feelings. "It will take a lot of work, Blair. I am not sure I am up to it."

Stopping her dance, Blair came to him, placing her hands in his. "Leave it to me. You have a wife now. Let me show you what I can do."

"I don't think I need to be reminded I have a wife," Chuck said his heart in his throat. Reaching out, he stroked a dark curl that had fallen loose from its yellow ribbon.

"I think, perhaps, a ball to celebrate our wedding would be considered appropriate," Blair said breathily.

"Very appropriate," Chuck agreed as he twined the curl around his finger and tugged lightly, pulling her closer. "When is this fete to take place?"

Blair knitted her brow, giving the matter some thought, trying very hard to ignore how close she was once more to Chuck. "I believe a month should be enough time to prepare."

"Such an industrious wife I have married," Chuck said with a laugh. "Within days you have managed to convert the household staff into your devoted slaves and now you are taking on the house like it is a battle to conquer. Whatever shall I do with you, My Love?"

"Use me," she said earnestly, only to turn bright red as she realized the innuendo inherent in her words. "I mean use me to make this a home. Let me make the Bass name known for it's exquisite parties and entertainments. Let me be a wife you can be proud of."

Ignoring her obvious mistake, his face became quite serious. "I am proud of you Blair. I could ask for nothing more in a public wife, but I find I want a wife in private as well. "

Blair yanked her curl from his grip, agitatedly pacing the room once more. "I can't, I won't, not without love and fidelity."

Chuck sighed, "Use me, I know I can make you happy. I can give you pleasure you have never dreamed of."

"No, Chuck. Our wager stands."

"I won't fail, Blair. I never have," Chuck warned, circling her like a shark coming in for the kill. "I will make you fall in love with me. Make it easier on yourself and give in."

Blair lifted her chin stubbornly. "I will never fall in love with you. I can't. Not when I know you will move from my bed to another's whenever the fancy takes you."

When Chuck didn't answer, Blair, her heart suspiciously aching, moved to the French doors to stare unseeingly out at the gardens. "I think a ball would be a splendid idea, don't you. That is if you will agree?"

Disturbed by the sudden tightening of his chest, Chuck forced a light tone into his voice. "If I agree? I may be the Duke here, but you are the Duchess. You will do as you please. If it is a ball you want, a ball you shall have."

It was true Blair would do as she pleased, it was the only power she could yield, but she wanted him to want it as much as she did. "You must want it too."

"Of course I want to have my house overrun by hundreds of people I could care less about, eating my food and drinking my wine. Then there is the duty as host to dance with every wallflower present. How could I not wish such a disturbance in my life?" He asked sarcastically.

While his tone was the slightest bit annoyed, his face told her another story. His eyes were bright and shining and his smile was so happy it almost took her breath away. She knew he was pleased to bring back the tradition his father had stolen from the Bass line. He would revive and preserve this birthright for future generations. At this line of thought her heart suddenly stopped for it finally hit her that there would no future Bass children; at least not from their line.

"I could save you a dance, maybe even a waltz?" she teased lightly even as the revelation that there would be no children ate away at her stomach.

He arched one eyebrow. "Then by all means, have your ball. I will dance with a hundred wallflowers if it means having one dance with my wife.

Blair smiled at him gratefully as he held out his arm for her to take. Leading him back the way he had come, she explained with great excitement the plans she had made for the other rooms. He listened carefully, taking pleasure in seeing her eyes dance and the way she gestured at fabrics and furniture with wide swoops of her hands. He barely paid attention so enraptured was he by her beauty and her joy in restoring his home.

"So what do you think?" Blair asked, looking at him with apprehension.

"Hmmm…" Frantically he thought of what he could say that would convey to her how much it meant to him that she had taken such an interest in their home. "Purple."

Blair stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "Purple?" she repeated back faintly.

"It needs more purple," he said lamely, not able to put into words what he really felt.

Starting to say something insulting, Blair caught her tongue as she peered into his eyes. Face glowing, he looked like a child on Christmas morning. "More purple it is then," she said with a gentle smile.

Chuck cleared his throat, changing the subject. "Have you seen the gallery yet?"

"I didn't know there was one."

"There is. It is full of ancient family portraits, all the Bass relatives and their progeny," he faltered, "I am sure it will be of no interest to you at all. Shall we see if tea is ready?"

Blair laid her hand over his. "I want to see your family. After all I am a Bass now," she replied, her look brooking no argument.

Chuck looked at her proudly. "Yes, you are."

The gallery was a long narrow room across the entryway on the other side of the house. It was high ceilinged and lined with windows along one end. The walls were filled with portraits, and every few feet there was a small alcove with a marble bust. Along the wall of windows were cushioned lounges across from the artwork, perfect for reflection or intimate conversation. So far away from the rest of the main rooms it was so quiet that the sound of her skirt gliding along the gleaming floorboards could be heard.

Blair walked from one painting to the next as Chuck explained their connection to his family name. Walking among them was like strolling through history. She could see who had brought the family honor and those who had almost lost the family name and fortune. Chuck acquainted her with each and every one, taking equal pleasure in showing both the heroes and the dissolute reprobates of the family. Blair had known she was marrying into an old family, but until now she had not realized exactly how old. There were portraits dating back to the sixteenth century.

"I am impressed. You know more about your family and it's history then I do about mine," she said with surprise.

"I suppose I do," he said with a bitter smile. "I spent a lot of time here when I was a boy.

They moved on until they came to the last set of portraits. "My mother," he said of the first.

His mother was tall and elegant with dark hair and sparkling eyes. Smiling coyly out of the picture, she was painted without the traditional embroidery or woman's work. Instead she stood by a vase of roses in full bloom. She was lovely and Blair could instantly see where Chuck had inherited his good looks.

"She was beautiful."

"Yes," he replied tersely, his hand reaching out to touch the edge of the frame. Turning to her, his voice became flirtatious. "The Bass men have always been known for their beautiful wives."

Blair could feel herself start to blush, so she turned to the other portrait. "Your Father?"

"Yes. It was painted after my mother's death."

Bartholomew Bass stood stiffly next to his desk, his hand placed strategically on a pile of written documents. He stared at them solemnly, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was concentrating on something of great importance. Blair wished there could have been a portrait painted of Bart when Chuck's mother was alive. From what she had been told she knew he had once been very happy, but here he looked so stern and forbidding she couldn't imagine him raising a child. She wondered if Chuck realized just how much he had revealed to her by showing her this room.

"How did he die?" Blair asked, even though she already knew. She wanted to hear him speak of his father.

"A carriage accident," Chuck said with a frown. "He was on his way to a party, and he was hit by another carriage and thrown from the vehicle. He didn't die right away, but lingered." He looked at Blair, his eyes haunted. "My father always thought I was weak and in the moment he needed me I wasn't there. I ran away."

"I'm sorry."

Chuck looked away. "Why? You didn't cause the accident."

Blair reached out to lightly touch his arm, forcing him to turn and look at her. "I am sorry for _you_." Looking deep into his tortured eyes, she realized that there was more depth to her husband then she had ever dreamed. He was in pain and she didn't know how to help him. "You didn't run away because you were weak. I think you ran away because you couldn't handle your feelings. You could no longer hide behind this lecherous rakish persona you had developed, so you ran. There is more to you, Chuck, than what you show the world."

Chuck cupped her face in his hands and with his finger he traced her lips. "And that is why I am so very afraid you shall win our wager. "

"You're just saying that to get into bed with me," Blair said breathlessly, her heart thumping in her chest.

"I wish that were true," he said, his face open and for once sincere.

Realizing just how dangerous this game they were playing was, Blair tried to step away, only to be caught by his eyes. Stripped bare of all pretense, baring his soul, they mesmerized her.

Leaning in, Blair softly brushed her lips over his; then, before she could take her next breath, his mouth plundered hers, staking a claim that left no doubt of his intentions. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Blair pulled him in closer, her fingers twining in his short hair.

Exploring her mouth with his tongue, Chuck caressed and teased her until she kissed him back, her tongue gently stroking his. With a moan his hands slid up to cup her buttocks, pushing her closer to him. She made a purring sound low in her throat, encouraging him. Worshipfully he placed butterfly kisses along the slender column of her neck. He made love to her with his hands, his lips. His only goal was to fulfill every dream of sensual pleasure she had ever had. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, fondling them, he gently kissed them through the silk of her gown until the nipples were pebble hard. Bringing his lips once more back to hers, he breathed in her scent, feeling as if he had died and gone to heaven.

Blair was lost to reality, never before had she known such bliss. Kissing him back, she tried to ignore the warning signals in her brain. The ones that just wouldn't go away, no matter how sweet his kisses nor how gentle his hands. With one last longing filled kiss she pulled away from him reluctantly.

"My, Love," Chuck murmured throatily. "The things you do to me…. I don't want to fall in love, but I can't seem to help it when you are near. "

"You are going to have to do better than that. I can't…I won't give myself up for anything less than true love from you. " She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. "The wager has changed."

Blair felt like crying. He needed her and God help her she wanted him, but it wasn't enough. She needed to know she would be his last.

"I believe it has," Chuck said. "It must be true love for both of us. You deserve nothing less."

"Perhaps until then we can be friends?" Blair asked tentatively, even as her heart sank to the floor.

Chuck's lips twisted into a cynical smile. "Lovers, enemies, but never friends, Blair. There is too much fire, too much passion between us."

"Then what happens now?"

"I don't know," Chuck said. Taking her hand in his, he led her out of the gallery and into the gardens. Hand in hand, like lovers, like newlyweds, they explored them together.

The gardens were beautiful, the one part of the house that had not been neglected. The warm sun shone on the couple happily, giving it's blessing, as Blair and Chuck moved amongst the flora and fauna.

"Do you like it here?" Chuck reached down to pluck a gardenia, handing it to Blair. He waited breathlessly for her answer. For some reason it mattered very much that she felt at home here, that she loved the place as much as he was beginning to.

Blair smiled up at him and, taking the gardenia, she lifted the bloom to her nose inhaling its delicate scent. "I love it here. It is becoming my home."

"And what of your husband," he said with a devilish smile.

"You are like a little boy, always scheming," Blair laughed.

"No, more like a bad boy who wishes to steal another kiss. Or is that not allowed with our new wager? "

"In full view of the house," Blair replied, scandalized. "What will the servants think?"

"I think they are already watching, and they would be very disappointed not to see their newlywed Duke and Duchess kiss." Chuck was feeling uncharacteristically happy. The week had started with him being forced in a marriage he didn't want, and now, remarkably, he felt something for his wife, something that led him to believe he was falling for her and with each minute it terrified him less.

"Kiss me, Blair. Seal our new wager. True love for both of us or nothing at all."

Blair felt something in her soul shift. Leaning in, she tilted her head up to meet his lips. The brush of lips was as sweet and tender as true loves first kiss.

Finished with their tour of the gardens, Chuck led Blair to the ballroom and into the care of a grinning Mrs. Miller and a blushing Rose.

"I will leave you to your planning," Chuck said with a smirk that barely managed to hide the pleasure that now gleamed in his eyes. "I will see you at dinnertime, My Love." Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of her hand gracefully before exiting the room.

Mrs. Miller turned to Blair, her brows raised questioningly.

Blair clapped her hands together with girlish glee. "We are to have a ball."

Rose squealed while Mrs. Miller's mouth gaped open like a fish out of water.

"It will be just like old times," Rose said with a proud look at her mistress.

Mrs. Miller used the edge of her apron to wipe an errant tear from the corner of her eye. "Your Grace, I never dreamed I would live to see this day. "

"With your help we are going to make the Bass residence the center of London's social season," Blair said, her eyes lighting up with excitement at the challenge before them.

"Of course, anything Your Grace wishes, I am at your service," Mrs. Miller replied fervently.

Blair walked the ballroom happily and catching sight of herself in the mirrors she stopped to straighten an errant curl. "We have a lot of work to do and very little time. The house will need to be fully cleaned and refurbished within the next few weeks if we are to make our deadline of having the ball at the end of the month."

"The end of the month?" the housekeeper repeated.

"Yes, will that be a problem?" Blair asked sweetly, determination in her voice.

Mrs. Miller swallowed. "Not at all, your Grace. What were your plans for the ballroom?"

Wrinkling her nose, Blair surveyed the room. "For now a good cleaning will suffice, but for the ball we will need flowers…lots of them."

Rose piped up, "The head gardener, Mr. Cecil, should be able to supply you that. He will be so thrilled to be able to be of service"

"I should speak to him at once to find out what will be in season for the ball and how we can best arrange the flowers."

"I will have him brought to see you as soon as he can be found," Mrs. Miller answered as she began to walk around the ballroom, taking note of all the work that would need to be done to get it ready.

"Perfect," Blair replied with a nod. "As for the food, I will also need to meet with the chef."

"Francois will be so excited to have a chance to showcase his food," Rose said, her cheeks turning red. "He has often complained about cooking only for the Duke. He was so excited when His Grace married and he had a chance to cook for two."

Mrs. Miller looked at Rose with amusement. "I know someone else Francois has enjoyed cooking for."

If possible, Rose flushed even brighter. Blair observed her ladies-maid with good-natured humor. "I am so pleased I can make the servants happy by putting them to work."

"If we are to pull this off, we will have to work harder than we have ever worked before," Mrs. Miller said.

"I am sure you will manage," Blair replied with a firm smile.

Rose bobbed a curtsey. "You can count on us."

"Of that I have no doubt," Blair said over her shoulder as she left the ballroom and began the long walk back to her bedroom. She had a lot of work to do and she had the sudden urge to start making lists.

* * *

Dinner that night was friendly and intimate as Chuck and Blair acquainted themselves with each other. She shared her lists with him and he offered advice and encouragement. After dinner, Blair went to her bedchambers without the dread she had experienced the night before. If she was honest with herself, she was almost looking forward to spending the night in Chuck's arms.

Upstairs in her bedchamber she waited patiently as Rose combed out her curls. As she began to braid her hair, Blair held out a hand to stop her.

"My husband prefers it loose. I will be wearing it down from now on."

Rose grinned merrily, "And so he should, Your Grace. Such lovely hair you have."

Blair stared at herself in the mirror. Did Chuck really find her as beautiful as he was always claiming, or was it all just a ruse to get her into bed? After their talk today in the gallery, she was almost tempted to believe that he truly found her attractive.

"The green silk I think," Blair said as Rose unbuttoned the tiny pearl buttons that lined the back of her dress. The nightgown she had chosen, while not the nun like habit of the night before, was still modest with small puffed sleeves and a long hem. Made of thin silk it clung to her figure, outlining her curves in a sinfully delicious way.

Quickly dressing her mistress, Rose curtsyed and was out of the room in minutes. Chuck entered the room soon after, a glass of scotch in one hand.

"God have mercy," Chuck swore as he shakily gulped down his drink, slamming the glass down on the wood mantelpiece above the fireplace.

Blair stood still under his heated gaze as he perused every inch of her body. Heady with desire he felt as if he had fallen under a spell. "If that is how you plan on dressing every night, I do not think I can sleep in your bed and keep our wager."

For the first time Blair felt like a woman, a very desirable woman. The way he was looking at her filled her with courage, and made her feel beautiful. Walking towards him, her hips swaying, her nipples peaking as the silk slid over them, she felt like a seductress, seducing her prey. She paused a few feet in front of him, twirling around she showcased the nightgown. "Do you like what you see, Chuck?"

Speechless for once Chuck could only nod. Breathing raggedly, it took a minute for him to respond. "Yes, very much."

Cocking her head to one side, she slithered even closer to him. "Do you think I am beautiful?"

"The most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Chuck swore fervently. "Can you not see the power you have over me?"

Blair dragged in a steadying breath, "I won't lie and say I am comfortable dressed like this. I feel exposed, nervous—"

"And totally beautiful?" he interrupted.

Laughing a beautiful carefree tinkling sound, she answered, "Yes."

"Since it will just make you even more uncomfortable, I won't tell you how much I want you right now," he smiled a sensual smile that made her blood tingle in her veins and sent fire racing in her belly. "Give me a chance, Blair. I won't do anything you don't want. I wish only to please you."

"I know," Blair said softly.

His words filled her with a sense of wellbeing. She could trust him not to take advantage and force her virginity from her. He had proven it the night before and once again he was stating his intentions. The words were as precious to her as pearls. She prayed he spoke true, because if he did, maybe there was hope for them yet. After today she knew she could be wooed and won by him if that was what he truly wished. Part of her was already falling for him. All that was left was for him to fall all the way, renounce his past life and mistresses, and pledge to remain forever faithful to her.

"Let me kiss you, My Love?" he asked, his voice aching with longing.

With a few short steps Blair stood before him, her eyes searching his. In their depths she saw his need, his desire for her, and it thrilled her. Gently Chuck put his arms around her, drawing her closer. Tilting her head, Blair offered her lips to him. Instead of capturing them, he painted gossamer fine kisses over her temple, her eyelids and her jaw line. Slowly he made his way to her mouth, his lips brushing first one red pouting lip and then the next, slowly, sensually. His tongue ran along the sensitive seam of her mouth, begging for entrance. She gave it, meeting his tongue with her own. The kiss was tender and sweet, and then slowly it shifted, becoming something more as his tongue stroked hers. No longer content with slow soft kisses, Chuck deepened the kiss, awaking a passion within Blair she had not known existed. Kissing him back feverishly, she felt a burning fire inside that threatened to consume her.

As he pulled her closer to him, she felt the rigidness of his erection against her belly and a feeling of great power filled her. The thought that she could do this to him filled her with awe. His hands found her breasts, and he held the small weight, his thumb sliding over her already erect nipples. If possible, they hardened even further and she felt an unfamiliar ache between her thighs. His other hand cupped her bottom and Blair felt drugged, like she was floating in a bottle of champagne. He continued to kiss her; deep kisses that made her blood dance in her veins.

She felt his hand move over her belly, sliding downward to cup her sex through the silk of her gown. Blair shivered as fever swept her at his touch. Suddenly, his mouth moved from her lips and fell to her neck, and she murmured in protest.

"If we continue like this, I won't be able to keep from making you mine," he said against the softness of her skin.

Blair waited for him to continue, to speak the words she needed to hear. As the silence in the room grew, she felt cold water wash over her at his silence. Reluctantly pulling away from him, she felt the loss of his heat and she was filled with anger. If only he could say he loved her, promise his fidelity, she would give in, let him take her.

"Then we had best stop," she said tartly, turning her back on him and heading to the bed.

Chuck felt his stomach flare with something unknown, a fluttering he couldn't explain. He shook it off, suddenly angry with himself for behaving like a gentleman. He would have had only to push a little further and she would have been his, naked and writhing beneath him.

Stalking over to the bed, he swatted away the butterfly bed hangings and climbed in. Rolling over to his side of the bed, he stayed as far away from Blair as possible. The distance between them as vast as the oceans, there was no hand holding between them that night.

* * *

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: sweetshorti868, KB22, RedheadObsession, Jessica, QueenHoa, Edwardslover09, Pao, Blood Red Kiss of Death, ronan03, RustyJimmy, cakebakery, smartin555, Lil Miss Chuckles, PattyWoods, BassBillionaire, HnM skinnys, walkerlu, :D, Hngauthier, Myra 'Trory' Dork, LisaLevine, Infinitywr, ggff-fan., tvrox12, READER120, -Melody of Words-, Poinsettia, lulubelle2010, kure yui, nostalgiakills, Elicia1, The Very Last Valkyrie, kousi, jsta, Bye11, abelard, npigal, BassKingdom, Krazy4Spike, Krism, Shanynde, charmander, dreamgurl, guardian izz, xoxochuckandblairxoxo and TriGemini.

Thanks also go to Elli and Chole for looking this over.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: The rating for this story has changed to mature.

* * *

Blair awakened the next morning to a cold and empty bed. To her dismay she realized she missed Chuck and his warmth. How was it possible to get so used to sleeping with someone when you had spent a lifetime in bed alone? Even though they had gone to bed angry, at least he had been there, his presence proving that he had not given up on them. Rolling over to his side, she inhaled deeply of the clean masculine scent that still permeated his pillow. Reluctantly she rose from her cocoon of down blankets. Walking over to her vanity table, she was surprised to see a letter addressed to her.

"_My Love,_

_The plans for the new nightclub came through. I find that my presence is needed on-site. I will be staying at my club for the next few weeks overseeing the work. _

_Apologies,_

_Chuck_

Infuriated beyond words, Blair tore the letter in tiny pieces, trying her hardest not to scream in anger. He was running away and who knew to whom? Her stomach queasy, she thought of Chuck with another woman and had to fight the urge to vomit. She didn't want him kissing, touching, whispering endearments to any other woman but her. She knew this was the way of most married men; wives were only for procreation, the begetting of heirs. Logically, she really had no reason to be angry, he certainly wasn't getting what he needed in bed from her. Still she couldn't stop the way anger and jealousy blossomed in her chest at his betrayal, especially after all his sweet words of yesterday. He had played her and she had let him, swept away by his kindness, his sharing of emotion and his false words of love. Hardening her heart, she vowed never again would she let him affect her this way. She would continue with her plans to finish his home and the preparations for the ball because it also benefitted her, but that was where her obligations as his wife ended.

Roughly wiping the tears from her eyes, she rang for Rose. Instead of enjoying Rose's normally familiar chatter, she found it only irritated her. After Blair snapped at the poor girl, Rose finally took the hint and remained silent as she arranged Blair's hair. Heading over to the wardrobe, she pulled out a purple lace gown and brought it over for her mistress's approval.

"No purple," Blair said coldly, reminded of Chuck and his desire for purple just the day before.

"But it would look so lovely with your coloring," Rose entreated.

"I do not care for purple. The thing belongs in the rubbish bin. Throw it away." Stalking over to the wardrobe, Blair drew out a soft blue cashmere gown.

"But," Rose sputtered, only to be silenced by a stern look from Blair.

At last dressed, Blair left the bedroom, entering the Ducal breakfast room. Seeing all the breakfast dishes laid out with only one plate present made her want to cry. Damn him, he was supposed to be here, flattering and teasing her. As Mrs. Miller quietly served her, it took all of her willpower not to question her about the whereabouts of her husband. She knew that the servants had to know about this new club of Chuck's, but she would rather die than ask questions.

Blair busied herself the next few weeks whipping the house into shape, still trying to convince herself she was doing it for her own selfish reasons and not because of her husband and his burgeoning love of his home. Finally, on the third week of being ignored by Chuck and the servants' pitying looks, she could take it no longer. At breakfast she finally cracked. Sending for notepaper and pen, she wrote a short note to Lord Archibald, asking him to visit her for tea.

An answer came promptly at noon. 'Lord Archibald would be overjoyed to join the Duchess for tea'.

Blair struggled over her wardrobe, wanting to find just the right gown to show of her looks. She knew Lord Archibald was attracted to her, and she hoped to play on his feelings to get the information she needed. Finally, she settled on a green silk gown that brought out the green in her eyes and the reddish tints in her hair. The dress was tight fitting, showing off her tiny waist, and the neckline was low.

Thankfully, one of the major drawing rooms was finished completely. The room now was the epitome of style and grace. Done up in shades of blue and cream to match the fine porcelain one of the Bass ancestors had brought back from the orient, the room gleamed like a fine gem. With systematic determination Blair set the perfect intimate scene. The fire in the fireplace was lit, the flames dancing merrily, and one of the tiniest tables was laid with tea so that Lord Archibald would have little choice but to sit very close to Blair.

Posing herself artfully in front of the window, book in hand; by a large vase of hydrangeas, she waited for her guest. At last he arrived, a bouquet of roses in hand.

"Your Grace," he said with a small bow.

Blair held out her hand for him to kiss, smiling, even though he had brought her the most plebian of all flowers. Roses were so very common. "Lord Archibald."

"Nate, please," he said with a smile, bowing over her hand and kissing her fingertips.

"Tea?" she asked as she handed the roses to Mrs. Miller to put in water. The housekeeper gave her mistress a small frown as she used one of the delicate blue and white oriental vases for the roses.

"It would be an honor, Your Grace," Nate replied, his eyes moving appreciatively over Blair's figure.

Feeling Mrs. Miller's disapproving eyes on her, Blair raised her head in challenge, staring down the housekeeper until the woman lowered her eyes to the floor. "Mrs. Miller, you are dismissed for the afternoon."

Curtseying, Mrs. Miller left the room, her skirts rustling with displeasure.

Taking a seat at the small tea table, Blair waved a hand for Nate to join her.

"I can't tell you how honored I was to get your invitation. It isn't every day one gets invited to tea with a Duchess."

Blair smiled at Nate flirtatiously. "It isn't every day one gets to enjoy the company of Lord Archibald either. From what I read in the gossip columns, you are quite the hunted bachelor."

Nate laughed, "And I have no intention of being caught." Looking her in the eye, he couldn't help adding: "Just why have you invited me here today. Not that I'm not flattered, but Chuck certainly is not going to approve of this meeting."

"It is none of Chuck's business whom I spend my time with," Blair replied loftily. "Why should he care if I choose to spend it with one of London's most eligible bachelors"

"What has happened between the two of you?" Nate asked. "Why, after your display at Lord Grenville's, I find it hard to believe Chuck would allow you out of the bedroom.

Blair distracted herself by lifting the heavy silver teapot, pouring tea for them both. "Sugar? Cream?"

"Both," Nate said, reaching over to take the tea. Blair let his fingers brush hers and she was thrilled to note the hint of flush that filled his cheeks at their touch. He was not immune to her charms, and she had him right where she wanted him.

"Lord Archibald—"" she began only to be interrupted.

"Nate, please," he said as he took a sip of tea.

"Nate," she repeated with a seductive smile.

Covering his sudden nervousness, Nate choked on his tea.

Blair rose to clap him on the back, her fingers making small soothing circles over his back. Her scent perfuming the air, her body so close to him, Nate couldn't help the way his body responded. Good heavens, he would have to be a eunuch not to be affected by her beauty, but the thought of what Chuck would do to him, if he knew about his illicit thoughts, was enough to stop his heart cold.

"What is it you want, Blair," Nate asked anxiously, suddenly feeling very like a rat caught in a trap.

"Why must I want something?" she asked, looking up at him with large innocent eyes.

Nate swallowed uncomfortably, "Because you have never invited me to tea before."

Blair shrugged her shoulders gracefully, sitting herself once more next to Nate. "Maybe I just want to get to know my husband's friends."

"I am very much afraid getting to know your husband's friends will most likely end in them getting killed in a duel or worse," Nate said, his voice deadly serious.

"Don't be ridiculous," Blair laughed bitterly. "I am nothing more than a pretty toy to him. He cares for me like he would for any of his other many possessions."

"While Chuck is certainly possessive of his ahem…pretty toys, you are certainly not one of them. I saw the way he kissed you the night of Lord Grenville's ball. I have never seen him like that before."

"Then explain to me how a man who cares about his wife can walk out on her days after their marriage," she said icily.

"Knowing Chuck, I can only assume he walked out precisely because he cares," Nate said with a sigh.

Blair shook her head, angry tears filling her eyes. "If only that were true, we could work it out, but I fear he has left precisely because he feels nothing. He is no doubt at this moment carousing with half of London."

Nate looked at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but after your display at Lord Grenville's ball, you left little doubt as to the passion that is between you. Surely there is no reason for him to look elsewhere. You have only to get him back into the bedroom and all your problems would be solved."

Blair stared at her hands in shame, afraid to look into Nate's kind eyes. "That is where you are very wrong." She hesitated as she debated whether or not to tell Nate the truth. To bare her disgrace to him scared her, but on the other hand he knew Chuck like no other and perhaps he could be of use to her.

"His Grace and I have not consummated our marriage," she said awkwardly.

"What!" Nate exclaimed.

"Lower your voice, do you wish the servants to hear?" Blair seethed.

"Good God, you are still a virgin?"

Blushing bright red, Blair nodded. "I pointed a pistol at him on our wedding night to keep him from forcing his attentions on me. After that we agreed to a wager where if I could get him to love me, he would leave me alone. Then somehow the wager changed once more to one where we wouldn't consummate our marriage until we were both in love with each other."

Nate's face was frozen in shock, his mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. "You pointed a pistol at your husband on your wedding night?"

Blair shrugged as if it was no big deal. "I didn't shoot him."

"For which I am sure he gladly thanks you," Nate replied, adjusting his collar as if it was suddenly strangling him. Staring in fascination at Blair, he automatically reached out to pick up his teacup as if to take a drink, only to change his mind and set it back down again. "Chuck has either gone completely insane or he is madly in love with you," he finally commented.

"The man left me to stay at his club the last three weeks to work on a business deal. That is hardly the act of a man in love," Blair said dryly.

"No, that is the act of a man terribly afraid of what he feels. Chuck is running away from his own emotions."

Blair clutched the handle of her delicate china teacup tightly. "Right into the arms of his mistress, I am no doubt sure."

Nate frowned. "Not that I have heard or seen. He works at Victrola from day to night, sleeping in his office. He has put all of his," with that Nate looked at Blair with laughter in his eyes, "no doubt pent up energy into his work."

"Tell me about Victrola?" Blair asked, ignoring Nate's jest.

"I will, but first you need to think about taking Chuck into your bed. You obviously love him, and he feels something strong enough to make him run. To not take advantage of these circumstances is criminal."

"I do not love Chuck!

Nate raised one eyebrow. "No. Then why am I here?"

"Because all of Society is talking about why Chuck is spending his nights away from his bride. I won't allow our marriage to be gossiped about publicly. This must stop and he must come home. For appearances' sake," Blair finished lamely

"Surely you must feel something for Chuck or you wouldn't care where he spent his nights?"

Blair flinched slightly. "He is my husband, of course I am not indifferent to where he spends his nights."

"Of course, "Nate said, smiling at Blair knowingly, in a manner that made her want to dump the contents of her teacup over his head. "You must admit it is funny," Nate added with a chuckle.

"What?" Blair asked rudely.

"The one woman in all of London that won't sleep with Chuck is his wife." Nate laughed at the thought. He couldn't even begin to imagine the frustration Chuck must have experienced being in the presence of such a beautiful wife and not being allowed to touch her. "I am surprised he has waited this long because, judging by that kiss just weeks ago, Chuck wants nothing more than to take you to bed."

"We had an agreement, a wager. He is honor bound to abide by the terms."

Nate looked at Blair with amusement. "Since when did Chuck ever care about honor when it came to his bedroom conquests? I could tell you stories—"

"Please don't," Blair interrupted, changing the subject. "Tell me about Victrola?"

"It is Chuck's latest pet project. I believe it is modeled after the Moulin Rouge. It is a nightclub for London's elite, a place where one would take their mistress for a night of seduction. There is food and alcohol and the most delicious dancing girls."

"Yes, I already know that," Blair said bluntly. "How do I get in?"

Nate's mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious."

"Try me," Blair replied with a deadly gleam in her eye.

"Blair, you mustn't even think of going to such a place. If you were caught, you would be ruined. The Queen would have you thrown out of court."

"That is why you are going to help me," Blair said calmly, taking a sip of her already cooling tea.

"Like hell I will," Nate swore.

"What was it you said earlier? Getting to know Chuck's friends would most likely end up in them being caught up in a duel or worse. Well, it wouldn't take much to convince Chuck that we have gotten to know each other very well. I dismissed the housekeeper and we have been alone for almost an hour. From what I have heard that is plenty of time to…" she paused theatrically, "become better acquainted.

Nate blinked at her slowly, understanding finally dawning. "Are you blackmailing me, Your Grace?"

"Blackmail is such an ugly word," Blair replied with a sweet smile.

"You and Chuck were made for each other," Nate said with a mournful shake of his head. "Chuck is going to have my head on a platter."

Blair ignored him as she daintily took a bite of a macaroon.

"What would you have me do?" Nate asked, already resigned to his role as enabler.

"Simply be yourself and escort your new mistress, the mysteriously masked Mademoiselle Fifi, to Victrola for the Grand Opening tonight."

Nate groaned, "You realize Chuck will kill me."

"Don't be ridiculous. I will stop him before it comes to that," Blair said blandly.

Putting his head in his hands, Nate cursed himself for succumbing to Blair's invitation to tea. Who would have thought a harmless flirtation would end up most likely costing him his life?

* * *

At dinner that night Blair picked at her food, her nerves making it impossible for her to eat. Mrs. Miller watched her worriedly. Her heart went out to the young Duchess. Everything had seemed to be going so well for the newlyweds. She didn't know what had happened between the two of them, but she knew that the Duke's leaving wasn't helping.

"Will you be retiring for the evening, Your Grace?" Mrs. Miller asked as Blair finally put her fork down.

"Actually, Lord Archibald is escorting me to a party tonight," Blair said boldly.

"I see," Mrs. Miller said as she radiated disapproval.

Rising, Blair set her linen napkin down on the table. "Have Rose sent up. I will need her help getting ready."

"Of course, Your Grace."

Entering her bedchamber, Blair went straight to her wardrobe, searching for the most revealing gown she could find. Finally, she settled on a dark, thin blue silk gown that looked almost black in the light. Thousands of tiny crystals were sewn into the dress; catching the light, they made the dress sparkle as if it were covered in diamonds.

Rose was strangely quiet that night as she buttoned Blair into the gown. Adjusting the narrow sleeves around Blair's shoulders, she let out a small murmur of protest as Blair pulled them down, as far they would go. Further adjusting the neckline, Blair made her small breasts look as if they might burst from the dress if she took a deep breath. Shocked, Rose picked up the ivory handled brush to dress Blair's hair. In silence she made quick work of her task, accessorizing her hair with a comb that glittered with diamonds. Tears forming in her eyes, she couldn't stop the small cry that squeaked through her lips.

Blair reached out to grasp Rose's rough hand comfortingly in hers. "Don't worry Rose. I am bringing the Duke home."

Rose nodded through her tears as she went to grab Blair's velvet and ermine trimmed wrap.

Reaching into one of the drawers in her vanity table, Blair pulled out a black silk mask. Made for use at a masquerade ball, it would do well to hide her features enough that her identity would not be guessed. Although, she had little fear of that. Who would ever dream the current Duchess of Devon would be attending the Grand Opening of the most depraved nightclub in London.

Tapping on the door, Mrs. Miller entered. "Lord Archibald is here, Your Grace."

Blair made her way down the grand staircase, feeling very much like a general heading into battle. For just a shadow of a moment doubts crossed her mind, but she quickly dismissed them. She was the Duchess of Devon and she would bring the Duke home, even if she had to get up on the tables and dance the Can-Can herself.

Nate mouth dropped open in admiration as he saw the vision that came towards him. He had seriously doubted that Blair could pull off the look of being a Cher Amie, but she had proven him wrong. He wasn't sure if it was the low cut dress or the seductive way she walked, but she didn't look anything like how a Duchess was supposed to look. Looking to her wedding ring finger, now covered in dark elbow length gloves, he reminded himself she was married to his best friend, who was most likely going to kill him.

"Blair, you look amazing," he finally said as she waited patiently for him to hold out his arm.

With a small shake of his head he cleared his mind; remembering his manners, he held out his arm. Leading her into the carriage, he was silent as he contemplated all the different ways Chuck could end his life.

Arriving at Victrola, Blair was surprised to see the establishment lit up by gaslights. The new invention was still very rare in London, but it made sense that Chuck would illuminate his new nightclub with them.

Taking a deep steadying breath, she allowed Nate to escort her into the establishment. Instantly her senses were assaulted by the smell of cigar smoke and various women's perfumes. Holding tightly unto Nate's arm, she looked around her at the small intimate tables scattered throughout the room, the scantily clad waitresses, and the stage that was front and center. Already there was a show going on, and several women were sashaying across the stage in brightly colored skirts that sat just below the knee.

As if drawn to her husband like a moth to a flame, Blair found him instantly. Surrounded by gentleman and women dressed much like herself, he was accepting congratulations, a champagne glass in hand. Suddenly, he raised his head like a wolf scenting the air and his eyes captured hers. Trapped in the fathomless depths of his gaze, she couldn't look away. Her heart skipped a beat as he turned his back on his guests and made his way to her.

"Nate," he drawled dangerously, like the predator he was. "So nice of you to make an appearance."

Swallowing hard, Nate fought his desire to run away. "Yes…ahem…well, I didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

"I have no doubt of that," Chuck said, his eyes glittering like chips of granite. "Please introduce me to your masked companion."

"Mademoiselle Fifi," Blair said cheekily, holding out her hand for Chuck.

Chuck took her hand in a bruising grip, and lowering his head, his lips met her glove.

Separated by the kidskin of her gloves, Blair nevertheless could feel the heat from Chuck's lips and it started a flame that licked up her thighs and across her belly.

"If you don't mind, old friend, I am going to steal your companion for the evening."

Nate practically pushed Blair at Chuck. "Steal away."

Snaking his arm around her waist and squeezing tightly, Chuck led his wife to the velvet booth in the center of the room. Handing her a glass of champagne, he took a seat.

"So tell me, Mademoiselle Fifi, how exactly do you pleasure my good friend Nathaniel?"

"With my lips and my tongue, any way he will have me," Blair said tauntingly.

Chuck inhaled sharply as he saw red. He wanted to throttle his wife, no, he wanted to kiss her, no, he wanted to fuck her, and he wasn't sure in what order. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, forcing himself to stay calm.

"You shouldn't have come."

"You didn't give me a choice, Chuck," Blair said tartly.

"Go home, Blair," he replied in a strangled voice.

"You asked me to give us a chance, to keep an open mind, and against all my better judgment I took you at your word. We have a wager and you are honor bound as a gentleman to keep it."

"Since when am I a gentleman?" he asked with a twisted curl of his lips.

Blair laid her hand gently in his, twining their fingers like vines. "Always with me."

Staring up at the stage, Blair watched the woman lift their skirts and kick their legs higher and higher.

"You know, I got moves."

"Really," he said, his voice as dark and sensual as velvet.

Blair swayed to the music. "You don't think I would do it."

Chuck gripped her hand tightly. "You wouldn't dare," he threatened.

Seductively, Blair slithered closer to Chuck. Leaning in, her lips inches from his ear, she spoke, "Come home, Chuck, or I will get up there and give them a show like they have never seen."

Chuck looked at the stage at the tawdry woman lifting their skirts; the men hollering and hooting, and he realized he had already known what his decision was the moment she had showed up in his club. She called to him like a siren and he was powerless to ignore her song.

"You win, My Love."

Yanking her by the hand, he pulled her into the dark recesses of the club and thrust her into his office. The gaslights flickered and sputtered, casting shadows over the room. Leaning against his desk, his eyes smoldered as they ran over her figure. Blair felt her heart speed up, her pulse fluttering frantically like the flapping of butterfly wings in her wrists and neck.

"Come here, Blair," he commanded.

"Why?" Blair asked breathily, her heart in her throat.

"Because I asked nicely," he mocked her, his eyes glittering with lust.

When she didn't move, he pulled himself up from the desk as gracefully as a panther stalking its prey and strode towards her. "Fine than I shall come to you." Reaching out, his hands slid over her sides to span her waist. Pulling her to him, he smiled in satisfaction as Blair's body fit against his, her erect nipples rubbing against his chest, and her legs already parting for him.

"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever known. Half the time I don't know whether I want to spank you, fuck you, or kiss you."

Blair's breath came fast in her chest, refusing to be cowed by his vulgar words or his threats, she pushed him away. "I think I would prefer the spanking," she said disdainfully.

Chuck's eyes glittered. "As you wish, My Love." Grabbing a hold of her wrists, he yanked her towards the desk.

"What are you doing?"

Dragging her across the desk, he bent her over, not even bothering to clear off his desk. Papers slithered and slid caught between the silk of her dress and the hard wood of the desk.

"Surely you aren't going to…" her voice trailed off as she tried to squirm away to no avail. She was trapped by his hands, iron gloved in velvet.

Chuck leaned to whisper in her ear, blowing gently at the curls that had escaped her coiffure. "Hasn't anyone ever taught you shouldn't say things you don't mean? You deserve to be punished for your exploits this evening."

"Don't you dare, Chuck," she said as her blood bubbled and boiled in her veins.

"I dare anything where you are concerned."

His hand made its way up her voluminous skirts to dance tantalizingly above her silk garters and up her thigh. Blair's toes curled in her leather slippers as she felt the heat of his palm against her skin.

"Say please," Chuck mocked.

Flipping her over, he sat her on the desk; parting her legs, he stood between them, his hardness pressing firmly against her through their clothes. His lips swooped down to catch hers in a plundering kiss. Blair's lips parted as he claimed her mouth, his tongue gliding and dancing seductively, driving her mad.

Her arms reached up, pulling him closer, and he sank into her embrace. His hands moved up to lightly brush her nipples in teasing circles. Blair felt her hips tilt against him and she gasped at the exquisite pleasure the act yielded. He let her breasts completely fill his hands, before bending to kiss first one and then the other. Opening his mouth, he tongued the peaks roughly through the thin silk of her gown.

Blair moaned as he lifted her skirts, his hands sliding up her legs, coming to rest on either side of her thighs. Lazily he fiddled with the ribbons of her garters, and she held her breath as his thumbs made small circles over her skin. She didn't have time to think before he dropped to his knees, placing a fluttering kiss on the inside of her leg, his thumb reaching up to gently rest in her soft curls. Blair arched her back and her shoulders trying to pull away, tell him to stop. But in the next second her body bucked against him as his finger grazed over a sensitive place. Then his tongue was where his finger had been just moments ago. Suddenly, Blair didn't want him to stop at all. Her fingers somehow found their way into his thick hair, and she thrust them in his locks, pulling and twisting. With a wicked mouth and a merciless tongue he found a rhythm that left her aching with need. A cry escaped her and then another as he lapped at her longer and deeper.

"Please," she whispered brokenly, her voice sounding tiny and very far away.

He paused for a moment, and she thrust her hips at him in agony. He slid a finger into her and began to stroke, and she felt the world tilt and spin in a crazy kaleidoscope of color.

"Please, what?" he asked in a deep devil's voice. He slid another finger in her and her flesh pulsed around him.

"Beg me, My Love. I want my name to be on your lips when you come."

"Chuck…Chuck," she whispered over and over again as he drove her closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy. There was no holding back, no escaping, and she trembled as spasm after spasm overtook her.

Then it was quiet as the storm passed. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe as he arose, running his hands over her body, claiming her with his touch.

Lost in a hazy glow of pleasure, Blair barely heard the knock on the door.

"Excuse me, Your Grace, the crowds are calling for you," came a loud voice through the door.

"Damnation," Chuck swore. "I told them never to bother me when I am with female company."

Blair stiffened in anger, bristling like a porcupine. "Is that what I am? Female company?" she spat out.

"Yes…no," Chuck said dazedly, shaking his head.

Tapping her foot angrily, her eyes shooting sparks, Blair stared him down.

Chuck's lips slowly curved into a smile as he took in her anger, her fire, at being thought of as just another one of his conquests. "No, My Love. While I have proven without a doubt that you are female, you are certainly not what I would call female company."

"Then what would you call me?" Blair asked with an angry toss of her head.

"My wife," Chuck said simply as if it explained everything.

Blair turned away as angry tears of frustration filled her eyes.

Chuck followed her gently, taking her face in his hands, he turned her to face him. Leaning in so close she could feel the whisper of his breath on her lips, he murmured, "And my Love."

"Your Grace," the voice called out urgently this time. "What do you want me to do?"

Blair stepped back, her eyes huge and wondering.

"I need to go," Chuck said regretfully, taking her hand in his and kissing the inside of her wrist.

"I know," Blair sighed.

"Against my better judgment I am going to have Lord Archibald take you home. You really can't stay here, Blair. You took a great risk coming here, and I couldn't bear you being caught and having your name tarnished."

Blair opened her mouth to speak only to have his lips catch hers, in the sweetest of kisses. His tongue gently swept the inside of her mouth, giving her just a taste of the pleasure that was yet to come.

"Stay here until Lord Archibald comes for you," Chuck said as he slowly opened the door, making sure to shield her from the servant who waited.

"Will you be coming home?" Blair asked, trying desperately to keep the yearning and need she felt out of her voice.

"I shall be there as soon as I finish up here." Heading out the door, he paused for a moment and turned once more to face her, a smirk firmly in place. "Did you ever once doubt your plan would succeed?"

"Never," Blair lied.

With a laugh Chuck left her alone. Waiting impatiently for Lord Archibald, Blair paced the floor restlessly. She had obtained her wish to bring Chuck home, and now she felt empty. She needed him, wanted him in a way that she had never dreamed possible.

It didn't take long for Lord Archibald to make his appearance. Poking his head in the door, he spoke awkwardly, "Everything all right, Your Grace."

"Perfect," Blair responded with the contented smile of a cat that has gotten into the cream.

* * *

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: esap, Red Ribbons, KB22, RustyJimmy, itsolgatime, TriGemini, TDCTDC, cakebakery, Myra 'Trory' Dork, Poinsettia, .star, READER120, dk-fatale, Whitney1812, vanillalatte86, tvrox12, thegoodgossipgirl, Pao, -Melody of Words-, teddy bear, kat, chairlovforever, Joy, LisaLevine, blair4eva, ronan03, Infinitywr, lulubelle2010, Moi, NoFearOfChic, PattyWoods, BassBillionaire, The Very Last Valkyrie, kousi, Bye11, Lil Miss Chuckles, Cathybronte, Edwardslover09, jsta, BassKingdom, Blood Red Kiss of Death, RedheadObsession, abelard, HnM skinnys, guardian izz, Krism, xoxochuckandblairxoxo, dreamgurl and xoxogg4lifexoxo.

Thanks to everyone who answered my poll.

Much love to the lovely Elli for her beta work.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The rating for this chapter is M.

* * *

Blair entered her bedroom in a rush, her skirts swishing around her ankles. Rose, who had been waiting by the fireplace ever so patiently for her mistress to come home, stood up hastily.

"Your Grace?" Hiding a yawn behind her hand, Rose bobbed a curtsey.

Throwing back the large doors of her wardrobe, Blair ran her fingers impatiently through the fine fabrics. "Hurry, Rose we don't have much time."

Rose was at her side in an instant. "His Grace? You saw him?"

Blair laughed gleefully, the sound filling Rose with hope. "Of course I did, and he is on his way home."

"The Duke is coming home now?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Blair looked at her maid with annoyance.

"I… I'm just so happy." Rose wriggled with happiness like a small puppy with a beloved bone.

Ignoring Rose's outburst, Blair continued to dig through her wardrobe. "Which is why I need just the perfect outfit."

"Perfect outfit for what?"

Blair gave Rose a look that left no doubt as to what the outfit was for.

"Oh!" Rose squeaked. Pulling two nightgowns from the depths of the wardrobe, Rose held them up for Blair's inspection. "Vixen or innocent?" she asked with a hint of humor.

Gazing from the red to the white silk, Blair tried to decide which one would best inflame Chuck's desire for her. After his words in the office at Victrola, she knew he hung on a precipice. All he needed was a little encouragement from her and she would have her declaration of love. He had all but said it just an hour ago after giving her the most exquisite pleasure she had ever known.

"I think we will go with vixen," Blair said with a laugh.

Standing still, Blair waited with unaccustomed patience as Rose unbuttoned her dress and removed her corset and petticoats. Lifting the red whisper of silk over Blair's head, Rose sighed as she stepped back and regarded her mistress.

"You look beautiful, Your Grace. The Duke will never want to leave your bed once he sees this on you."

Blair preened in front of the mirror on her vanity table, studying the nightgown and the way it draped over her curves. Made of the finest silk, the nightdress, while being almost translucent, was also the color of flames. As Blair twisted and turned in the mirror to catch the gown at every angle, the candlelight hit the silk, setting it afire. The gorgeous shifting colors served to heighten Blair's creamy pale skin and her pouting red mouth. At last satisfied with the gown Blair sat down to have Rose unpin and comb her hair out. As Rose styled her mistress's hair, brushing it into long ringlets that swirled down her back, she chattered happily away about all the changes that had been made to the house that day.

Rising, Blair was suddenly struck by how much the nightdress did reveal. "Is there a matching robe?"

"Of course, Your Grace. But perhaps His Grace would prefer—"

"I have no illusions as to what His Grace would prefer," Blair retorted with a twinkle in her eye. "But I feel the need to not put quite so much of myself on display. Leave a little to the imagination."

"Your Grace has a lovely dressing gown trimmed in black lace that would match perfectly."

"That will do fine."

Quickly Rose gathered the dressing gown from the closet, draping it over Blair's tiny form. Blair cinched the waist of the dressing gown tightly, feeling just as naked with the gown as without it. She wasn't even sure the dressing gown could be called as such. While it was an outer garment, it was so thin and diaphanous she might not have worn it at all. But instead of taking it off, she decided to keep it on, give herself one more layer of clothing between herself and Chuck.

Heading over to the bell pull, Blair rang for Mrs. Miller. As if she had been waiting outside the door, she was instantly there. Entering the room, her disapproving and mulish face cast a pall on Blair's happiness.

"Mrs. Miller, I will need a bottle of His Grace's finest champagne," Blair said cheerfully.

"Of course, Your Grace. May I request to know the occasion?"

"His Grace is returning home this evening," Blair replied with as much dignity she could muster when her lips wouldn't stop smiling.

"Oh, Your Grace, I have prayed for this." Mrs. Miller wiped away a tear with the edge of her apron. "Thank you for bringing him home. I am so very sorry I ever doubted you."

"From now on his Grace is here to stay." Blair set her chin determinedly. "I will make sure of it."

"I couldn't be happier," the housekeeper sniffled. "His Grace needs you so much. For him to be gone had to have been killing him."

"Just like it was killing me," Blair said softly under her breath.

Immediately Mrs. Miller sprang into action, calling for champagne and glasses to be brought up plus an assortment of fresh fruit and chocolate.

"But we have already eaten," Blair objected.

A smile curved at the edges of Mrs. Miller's lips. "Dressed like that you will be in need of fortification."

Blair's mouth rounded into a perfect O as she realized the meaning behind her housekeeper's words. Flushing, she turned away so that Mrs. Miller wouldn't see her blushes and guess how little she knew of the lovemaking process.

"When will the Duke be here?"

"Any moment," Blair replied nervously. "When I left the club, he was just finishing up some last minute business."

Rose and Mrs. Miller stared at Blair with astonishment. "You went to Victrola?" They asked in unison.

"I did," Blair said, meeting their eyes boldly.

"What was it like?" Rose asked in wonderment.

Mrs. Miller glared at her young charge. "It really isn't proper to discuss such a place."

Blair turned to Rose, her eyes lighting up with mischief. "It was all very dark and smoky and other than the dancing girls very boring." Except when he kissed you there and there, she couldn't help adding in her head.

"Do they really lift their skirts above their heads?" Rose asked with interest.

Mrs. Miller bristled, "Really Rose!"

"No, it is quite all right," laughed Blair. "When will she ever get a chance to see the place in action? The girls do lift their skirts in a dance called the Can-Can. It really is quite scandalous, but the gentlemen seem to love it. It is all very low class, but I can see how it would rake in the money. As seedy as it sounds, the club is very well decorated and only the finest foods are served. It very much caters to a high-class clientele."

Mrs. Miller, having given up on her charge, bustled about the room, turning down the bed sheets and lighting every candle available. As the footman brought up the requested champagne and repast, Mrs. Miller artfully arranged them on one of the side tables.

As soon as Mrs. Miller and Rose left Blair took a seat on the settee. She tried to wait patiently even as her stomach twisted and turned into tight knots. Catching sight of the champagne, she poured a glass, taking a deep calming drink.

Chuck, having finished his business as quickly as possible, rushed home as fast as he could to his wife, cursing every pothole, every pedestrian crossing that kept him from her. He knew that something had changed between them, and he yearned to discover what exactly that was. He had never before known the bliss he had felt pleasuring her with his tongue and fingers. For the first time in his life, he had thought only of a woman and her desire, and the idea, while foreign, excited him. It made him yearn and ache to touch her once more, to see if what he was feeling could possibly be true.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he barely had a chance to spare a glance for Mrs. Miller and Rose as they came down the winding staircase.

"Good Evening, Your Grace. We are so very happy to see you at home once more. Shall we prepare your bedchamber?" Mrs. Miller asked with a straight face.

"No, I will be staying with the Duchess this evening," he answered, his heart suddenly feeling light and carefree for the first time in weeks.

As he continued up the stairs, he thought almost for a moment he heard them giggling at him.

Rapping at the door of Blair's bedchamber, he didn't wait for her to call out to him. Entering the room, he stood at the threshold in shock at the beauty that lay elegantly sprawled out on the velvet settee.

His heart in his throat, his mouth suddenly very dry, he was as still as a statue as his eyes roved over his wife. She was glorious in the candlelight, the curves of her luscious body elegantly draped in almost transparent red silk. Entering the room, he was made painfully aware of how tight his trousers had suddenly gotten.

"Chuck," Blair said breathily, arising from the settee, the folds of her gown flowing gracefully over her body.

"My Love," he replied, his voice thick with desire.

"You came." Walking towards him, her hips swaying seductively, she stopped mere inches from him.

Chuck reached out to gently cup the side of her face. "Nothing could have kept me away."

Her hands reached out to touch his shoulders and for a brief heartbreaking moment he thought she was going to push him away. Instead she only pulled him closer, her breasts pressing firmly against his chest. Chuck had never been so aroused, so desperate for her. His hands strayed to her hair, running his fingers through her curls, he inhaled deeply of her perfume. She smelled like gardenias and freesias and the heavenly scent intoxicated him. With tender pressure his hand slid to the back of her head and he buried his long fingers in her hair, pushing her head closer to his. Leaning in, he stroked her plush, pouting mouth with his tongue, waiting patiently for hers to open. When finally she opened her mouth, he groaned in ecstasy.

Blair felt her spine melt like warm honey as his tongue sought hers, tenderly caressing. She met him, stroke for stroke, shivering at the delicateness of his touch. Her hand left his shoulder, curling tightly into the hair on the back of his head, pulling him even closer. Rubbing her tight and throbbing body seductively against him, she tried to ease the burning ache in her thighs. Walking backwards, she led him to the great bed. She made no protest as Chuck pulled the bed curtains aside, guiding her down unto the mattress. When at last Chuck lifted his head, Blair found she was clinging to him like a drowning victim. Somehow, instead of being mortified, it only served to elevate her desire.

Blair sighed as Chuck whispered endearments, his lips sliding down into the hollow of her throat. She shuddered as he found the curve of her neck, nipping at the tender flesh and than laving it with his hot tongue. Her hips arched off the bed, only to come achingly into contact with his hardness. Writhing sinuously, she tried to bring him closer, fit them together like puzzle pieces.

His hands ran over her reverently, caressing her breasts, her hips, and her thighs. Untying her dressing gown, he gazed at the swell of her perfect breasts, her rosy nipples poking out from the silk of her gown. Lowering his head, he lapped at the erect buds, his tongue wetting the silk, creating a delicious friction that soon had her gasping aloud. Sliding the sleeves of her nightgown down over her breasts, he cupped them in his large hands. Grinding his hips into hers, he smiled with delight as her body bucked and arched against him. Wooing her with his lips, his tongue, and his body, he sought to bring her to new heights of pleasure.

Blair shuddered at the exquisite friction of his hard length pressed against the juncture of her thighs. For a fleeting moment she thought of their wager and considered pulling away, but she knew he was so close to telling her what she needed to hear. She could feel his love for her with every kiss and caress.

"Touch me," Chuck rasped out.

He needed to feel her hands on his body, know that she wanted to touch him as much as he needed to touch her. Guiding her hand to the front of his trousers, he waited with baited breath for her to refuse. Instead, with a wanton smile, she stroked him through the fabric, her eyes sly and wicked.

"My Love, what you do to me," he groaned as he grew even harder under her touch.

Chuck kissed her deeply, surrendering to his desires, knowing they were reaching the point of no return. Lifting his head, he stared deeply into her velvety eyes and felt the bars that had surrounded his heart for years break open, one by one, setting him free.

Leaning forward he brushed his lips reverently against hers. "I love you," he murmured against her mouth. Pulling back he watched her, almost afraid of her reaction. When he saw her lips curve into a triumphant smile he feared all was lost, but then she kissed him, a deep drugging kiss that sent his senses spinning.

Blair's heart fluttered open as those three words, eight letters reverberated over and over again deep within her soul.

"I…I..." she whispered, trying to capture the words and say them back, but they wouldn't come. So instead she said them with her lips, her eyes, and her hands.

Chuck seemed to understand as he slipped her nightdress from her hips and tossed it to the floor in a silken heap. His clothes soon followed. Finally naked, he rubbed his body against hers, smiling in exultation as she moaned and wriggled beneath him.

His hands stroked her breasts once more, his half parted lips suckling a budded peak, his fingers making their way lazily to her hot core. Finding the moisture he sought, he fluttered his fingers over her most sensitive spot, delighting in the way her hips surged forward, kissing his hand. Sliding down, his lips parted the soft petals of her flesh. With a merciless tongue he teased and tormented her, sliding one of his long elegant fingers deep inside her.

Heat roared through Blair's body, the ache between her legs growing more and more intense. She felt him stroke her slowly, steadily, and her hips quaked and trembled with want and need. She clamped down on him and he quickened his efforts, his tongue dancing over her now tight bud. Stretching her, he plunged a second and then a third finger to the hilt as she bucked and thrashed against him.

"That's it, My Love," he whispered hoarsely. "When I'm inside you, move just like this and I will give you everything you need.

Pleasure washed over Blair as he compelled and demanded her capitulation. Wave after wave of ecstasy pounded over her faster and faster until with one final arch of her hips she gave in and lay still. Panting, her body flushed and tingling, she lay as if drunk. Satiated, she felt the brush of his hot manhood move up her leg and settle between her thighs.

"Touch me and let me show you the power you have over me," Chuck murmured, his eyes dark and heavy with desire.

Tentatively she reached out to touch at his velvet hardness and to her pleasure she felt him quiver in her hand. He sucked in a breath as she gently stroked his length. His eyes fluttered closed, his breathing growing ragged and shallow. Afraid he didn't have much time left he unclasped her hand, pressing it to her side. Wetting himself with her juices, he rubbed against her sensitive sex and then, with a quick thrust, he was inside her.

Blair's eyes flew open as she took in all the sensations. She tensed as she expected pain, but instead all she felt was a slight stinging sensation as he moved further and further inside of her. Open and ready she welcomed him eagerly. Holding on tightly to his shoulders, she shivered as the slickness of his manhood inside of her seemed to unlock something deep and wild within her. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders as he moved his hips rhythmically against hers.

His mouth claimed hers once more, and when she sucked almost painfully on his lower lip, he knew he was near. With wicked fingers he once more found her bud, and he flicked his finger until she was moaning and moving against him like a wild animal. Thrilled and excited by her response, he jerked violently inside her and then lay still.

Their bodies still drawn together, Blair's hands stroked his back. He held himself painfully still as she continued to explore his body, reaching down to cup his buttocks in her palms. His body trembled and shook as he grew hard inside her once more. To his surprise, Blair opened her legs even wider, and he greedily took what she was offering. With the wet heat of his tongue he found her breast and Blair responded, her nails leaving deep scratches on his back.

Even as Blair felt sore, she couldn't help the need that once more lapped at her like a flame. As his mouth moved from one breast to the other, his tongue licking steadily, she felt sensual pleasure rush from nerve to nerve. Overcome she turned her head to the side, staring at the butterfly bed hangings. Hazy with desire she swore she saw them swirl around her in a rainbow of color.

"Kiss me," Chuck said in a guttural whisper.

Guiding her mouth to his, she ravished him with her tongue as he quaked and trembled around her in release.

"My, God," Chuck gasped as he pulled out of her. Never before had he experienced passion like this. Fulfilled and at peace for the first time in his life, he pulled her into his arms, gathering her close. Shutting his eyes, his body pressed firmly against hers, he fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat.

Tingling all over, her body achingly sensitive, Blair waited until she knew he was asleep before whispering the words that had been on the tip of her tongue all evening. "I love you."

* * *

When Blair awoke it was to find Chuck already gone. Rising from her bed, she noticed with dread the note that lay folded on her vanity table. With her heart cold, with fear, she opened the letter.

"_My Love,_

_I forgot to mention last night I had a meeting with the railway executives early this morning. Please forgive me. I will be home by tea, at which time I expect to ravish every inch of your delectable body. _

_With Love,_

_Chuck_

Blair suddenly felt as if the world was as bright and shiny as a newly minted guinea. Slipping into her dressing gown, she rang for Rose. It didn't take long before Rose arrived. With a huge grin on her face she reached down to pick Chuck's discarded clothes from the floor, carefully folding them.

"Did You Grace sleep well?" Rose asked in an innocent voice.

Blair couldn't help the blood that rushed to her face. "Perfectly."

"Shall I draw Your Grace a bath?"

"That would be lovely, Rose." Humming to herself with happiness, Blair picked up her hairbrush to untangle the snarls left from a night filled with passion.

Blair watched as Rose opened the water taps on the claw foot tub, adjusting the temperature and adding the floral bath salts she loved. Shedding her dressing gown, Blair sank into the tub. Stretching out her pleasantly sore muscles, she let the water wash over her. Smiling to herself, she recalled the pleasure of the night before, the way Chuck had loved every inch of her body as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The only thing that had marred the evening had been her inability to say those three words. She knew she felt them, but she had been so horribly frightened. Afraid of what would happen if she gave into her emotions and let him see how vulnerable she really was, how easily he could break her.

Finishing her bath, she stood patiently as Rose laced her corset and adjusted her petticoats.

"What gown would Your Grace prefer to wear today?"

Blair tilted her head, considering the matter. "I think the purple velvet," she suggested with a smile as she remembered Chuck's fondness for purple.

Rose whisked the dress over Blair's head, adjusting the sleeves. Adding a cameo choker, she completed the ensemble.

"Your Grace looks lovely today, almost glowing," Rose said fondly as she gave Blair a last look before stepping aside.

Blair flushed slightly at the compliment. "Thank you, Rose."

Entering the breakfast room, Blair was pleased to note that Mrs. Miller had already filled her plate with her favorite foods. Suddenly very hungry, she practically wolfed down her croissant and fruit.

Finally satiated, she sat her heavy linen napkin down on the table.

Anxious for news about Chuck, Blair couldn't stop herself from asking, "Did you see His Grace this morning?"

"Oh yes, Your Grace. He ate all the eggs and half a rasher of bacon. I have never seen him eat so much."

"You know men and their appetites," Blair said with a self-satisfied smirk.

Mrs. Miller bit back a smile, nodding sagely, "Indeed, Your Grace."

"How are the plans for the ball coming along?"

"Just wonderful. Francois has completed his menu and the flowers for the ballroom have already been chosen."

"Perfect. With just a few days left we need to make sure we stay on top of things. We will need to make sure the mirrors are cleaned the day of the ball. We don't want any dust or smudges to distract the guests from their dancing," Blair replied with a small frown.

"Of course, Your Grace. " Mrs. Miller cleared Blair's dishes, moving them to the sideboard "You will be pleased to know the post has arrived."

"Anything for me?" Blair asked excitedly. Every day since she had sent invitations out for the ball, she had anxiously awaited the post. Not only were there letters from Serena and Eric to look forward to, but every day more and more acceptance cards came in. There was nothing she loved more then checking off another acceptance on her list of guests.

"Of course, Your Grace." Mrs. Miller smiled at her mistress as she delivered the neat stack of letters on a silver salver, making sure to include a letter opener.

Digging into the pile, Blair was pleased to find a letter from her dear friend Serena. Setting aside the letter to read later in the privacy of her own room, she started sorting through the acceptance cards. Her hand stopped at once as she took note of a pink letter, heavily scented, and with her husband's name written on it. Mrs. Miller had somehow managed to mix a piece of Chuck's mail in with hers. Blair felt an icy chill start in her toes, work its way up her legs and into her heart as she stared at the feminine handwriting.

Mrs. Miller paused in her task of bussing the breakfast dishes from the sideboard to a small-wheeled cart. Expecting to hear Blair's excited chatter as she opened the acceptance cards, Mrs. Miller looked at her with concern when all she heard after several minutes was silence.

"Are you all right, Your Grace?"

Slipping the letter underneath the pile of acceptance cards, Blair smiled painfully at the housekeeper. "Perfect."

Blair waited in patience, her chest growing tighter with every passing second as the housekeeper finished clearing the dishes.

"Is there anything else, Your Grace, needs?"

"No, that will be all," Blair answered in as bland a tone as she could manage.

Curtsying and with a strange look at her mistress, Mrs. Miller left the room.

With trembling hands, Blair drew the letter from the bottom of the pile, slitting the envelope open with her letter opener. Pulling the sheet of paper out, she held her breath as she read the contents.

_Chuck,_

_Thank you for the lovely sapphire bracelet. I look forward to showing you tonight just how grateful I can be._

_Elle_

Blair felt her breakfast rise up into her throat, scorching and acidic. Practically gagging, she stumbled from her chair, falling to the floor. Taking deep gulping breaths, she tried not to retch as her stomach revolted. Picking up the letter where it had fallen to the floor, she read it over and over until she could no longer see the words through her tears. She couldn't believe it. He had played her and she had let him. To her complete shame she could see how easily he had accomplished his goal. Running away, he had known she would come after him. How could she not after all of her talk about preserving their reputation in public? When she at last came to him, he had preyed on her vulnerabilities, using his body as a weapon to get her to realize her feelings for him. Then when he knew she was close to capitulating, he had twisted the dagger, telling her the words she most longed to hear. It must have all been a game for him, one silly wager that he probably had enjoyed every moment of. How could she have been so stupid? Stupid to think he could ever fall in love with her. Stupid to think he would ever give up his mistresses for her. How could she have been such a fool as to let him into her heart?

Brushing her hot salty tears away with the backs of her hands she rose, from the floor. Clenching the letter tightly in one hand, she walked over to the fireplace and flung it into the hungry flames. She wasn't about to give Chuck the satisfaction of knowing that his mistress eagerly awaited him. Smiling tightly, she watched until the letter was nothing but ashes.

She had to do something. She had to protect herself. She couldn't bear the thought of seeing his smirking face at teatime as he pretended a love and devotion to her that she now knew he did not feel. There was no way she could stay here, finishing his home, preparing for their ball, when she knew she had been so thoroughly played.

Striding into her bedchamber, she fished out one of her small trunks from the back of her wardrobe. Ringing for Rose, she began to pull gowns, one after another, from her wardrobe. Walking over to her vanity table, she gathered up her brush, comb and hairpins and shoved them into the bottom of the trunk. Picking up her jewelry case, she removed Chuck's diamond gifts, leaving them to sit forlornly on the empty surface of her vanity table.

"Your Grace?" Rose asked, looking around in astonishment at the mess Blair had made of her clothing.

Blair pointed at the pile of dresses on the floor. "Rose, I need you to pack these up for me."

"Pack them up?" Rose echoed faintly.

"Isn't that what I just said? Do I need to repeat myself?" Blair snapped with a glaring look in her maid's direction.

"No, of course not." Bending over, Rose gathered up the gowns and slowly began folding them to fit in the trunk. "Is Your Grace going somewhere?"

Blair realized she hadn't thought her actions through. She had been so intent on leaving she hadn't stopped to think where she was actually going to go. Racking her brain, she searched for someplace she could go. There was always her parents, but she knew without a doubt if she showed up at her former home they would immediately send her back to Chuck. There were very few options for her. Even as a married woman she wouldn't be welcome at most respectable hotels without a husband. Suddenly, she remembered the letter from Serena. The van der Woodsens had been like a second family to her. She knew they would take her in at least for a few days until she figured out what to do next.

"Yes, I received a letter this morning from my good friend Lady van der Woodsen, asking me to stay with her," Blair said as naturally as she could. There was no use lying to Rose. All the servants would know soon enough where she was, once the carriage dropped her off.

"You're leaving now, Your Grace? But what about the ball?" Rose asked anxiously.

"Don't worry. I will be back in time for the ball." As soon as the words slipped past her lips, she realized she had spoken the truth. She had to be back in time for the ball, her reputation depended on it. No matter how mad she was at Chuck or how much she hated him, she would have to find a way to live with him. There was no other option left for her now that their marriage had been consummated. At least she could have this time, a day or two away from Chuck, to nurse her broken heart, fortify her defenses, and come up with a new plan of attack.

"Did something happen, Your Grace," Rose whispered, tears filling her eyes as she folded the last dress and placed it in the trunk.

"No, of course not." Blair's voice sounded false to her own ears. "It just has been a long time since I saw my good friend."

Rose stared at Blair with broken eyes as she slowly closed the lid of the trunk. "I will get the footmen to bring your trunk to the carriage."

As Rose left the room, Blair removed her ermine trimmed traveling cloak from the back of the wardrobe and placed it around her shoulders. Finding the matching hat, she pinned it in place over her upswept hairdo.

"Your Grace is leaving?" Mrs. Miller asked in surprise, entering the room with a footman in tow.

Blair smiled through her teeth. "Just for a few days. My friend Lady van der Woodsen has written, begging for a visit.

"Now?"

"Yes, now," Blair answered with a challenging tilt of her head. Walking over to her desk, she penned a short note to Chuck. Sealing it with wax, she handed in to Mrs. Miller. "See that His Grace receives this."

Mrs. Miller took the note, looking as if she might cry. "Of course, Your Grace."

With a last look at her room, Blair vowed that when next she returned she would have purged Chuck from her heart and forced him from her bed.

* * *

Chuck raced home from his meeting with the railroad executives. He could hardly wait to see his wife. To his embarrassment all day long he had done nothing but think of her, fantasize about her. Thank goodness that he had to do little talking, otherwise he was very afraid he would have ended up babbling nonsense about dancing eyes, red pouting lips, and dark curls. Entering the breakfast room, he immediately noticed Blair's absence. While the tea things were all laid out, the aromas of baked goods and tea filling the air, the table was only set for one.

Frowning, he turned to find Mrs. Miller standing directly behind him. "Where is Her Grace?"

With great dignity, Mrs. Miller handed him Blair's note. "She left this for you."

Chuck broke open the wax seal on Blair's letter. Staring at the note, he read it first once, twice, and then a third time.

_Chuck,_

_I have gone to visit my good friend Lady van der Woodsen. I will return in time for the ball._

_Blair_

He read the letter one last time, assessing the coldness and impersonal tone, trying to find some hint of emotion or feeling. His wife couldn't have written this. Not the woman who had made violent, passionate love to him last night. His vision was suddenly streaked with red and he felt fury rise in him like a volcano. He had imagined this day a million different ways, most of them centered on his wife and her luscious body, but never would he have dreamed that Blair would leave him. Wadding the letter into a ball, he dumped it into the fireplace. Damn her to hell, she was his wife, how dare she leave him? Especially after his words last night. Had they meant nothing to her? He was going to go get her and drag her home by her pretty dark hair.

As quickly as the thought came it slipped away. He suddenly saw it all clearly. She had played him. She must have planned it all along. It had all been an act from the beginning. She had used the excuse of protecting her virtue to make a fool out of him. She was probably even now bragging to everyone about how she had used her body to entrap him, force those three words from the biggest playboy in all of London. Now he knew why she hadn't said those three words to him last night. He had thought it was because she was shy, and when she had kissed him back so passionately, it hadn't mattered, he was sure she had felt the same.

Stalking out of the room, he stormed downstairs into one of the formal drawing rooms Blair had just re-decorated. Making his way to the bar, he poured himself a scotch and drained the glass in one gulp. Just thinking of her note again made anger rise up into his chest once more. He wasn't going to run after her like some stallion in heat. He had never chased after a woman before and he wasn't about to start now. Then he proceeded to get drunker than he ever had been before in his life. He had known he was in love with her, but what he had failed to realize was that he was insanely, desperately, and head over heels in love with his wife and he hated himself for it.

* * *

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: Charmander, RedheadObsession, ronan03, -Melody of Words-, KB22, wrighthangal, Carrie Black, annablake, walkerlu, tina, cavanaugh-girl, ggff-fan., NoFearOfChic, pty, .star, sweetshorti868, Michaellllla, BassBillionaire, smartin555, .beauty, xoxochuckandblairxoxo, tvrox12, Blood Red Kiss of Death, READER120, HnM skinnys, dreamgurl, Missy06, Myra 'Trory' Dork, Sabaku no Uchiha, The Very Last Valkyrie, flipped, uncorazonquebrado, LisaLevine, xoxogg4lifexoxo, Bye11, itsolgatime, PattyWoods, lulubelle2010, kousi, , Lil Miss Chuckles, Kate2008, BassKingdom, abelard, jsta, LTSTTE, Krazy4Spike, TriGemini, Krism, PacificRomance and Infinitywr.

Much love to Elli for her very patient beta work.


	8. Chapter 8

Blair sat across from Mrs. Humphrey, calmly sipping her tea, as if her entire world hadn't just fallen apart.

"Of course you can stay here for a few days." Lily smiled serenely, leaning back comfortably in her tapestry-upholstered chair. "You are always welcome in our home."

Blair looked at Lily gratefully as she took in the clean lines and simplicity of Lily's floral decorated drawing room. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"How were the roads? Did you make good time from London?"

"Yes, it only took half a day to get here," Blair answered politely, picking up a macaroon as if she was going to take a bite, only to place it back on her plate. She couldn't eat even if she wanted to.

Lily took a small bite of her cucumber sandwich. "As much as I enjoy being buried in the country, I do miss London life terribly."

"How much longer is left of your mourning?" Blair cast a sympathetic glance at Serena's black clothes. It amazed her that even dressed in such a dark and depressing color, Serena still managed to shine.

Lily sighed, "I am afraid another six months. I am sure mother would have much preferred Serena had a London season than be stuck wallowing in the country mourning her demise. It is unfortunate that decorum forces us to retire from society for a year."

"I really wish you could both make my first ball," Blair said with a small frown.

"And we wish more than anything we could be there." Lilly finished her sandwich with one bite. "It is all so silly, but at least there is next year."

Blair took another sip of her tea, enjoying the way the drink seemed to soothe and calm her frayed nerves. She had spent hours on pins and needles during her journey to Staffordshire, her mind replaying the words of a certain letter over and over again in her head. "Perhaps it's better this way. By the time Serena has her season I will be able to ensure she meets all the right people."

"That is true, you are certainly making your mark on society. I have heard of your escapades at Lord Grenville's ball." Lily looked at Blair wickedly. "People are still talking about that kiss."

With shaking hands Blair set her teacup down, afraid if she held it much longer she would drop it. "Yes, well that wasn't quite what I had in mind for Serena's come out." Blair gave Serena an embarrassed look. "I have made numerous influential acquaintances that will no doubt come in handy for her debut. I will be able to introduce her to all the best people."

"I don't doubt that, Blair. And the offer is much appreciated." Lily smiled lovingly at her daughter. "I must admit, it doesn't hurt Serena's reputation to have the Duchess of Devon as her best friend."

"How is married life?" Serena asked pointedly, unable to take any more polite conversation about her future.

"I am afraid your mother has done us all a disservice by making marriage look so easy," Blair responded with a short bitter laugh. It was well known that Lily's first marriage, arranged by her parent's, had not been a happy one. She had fallen in love with Mr. Rufus Humphrey at her come out ball, but without title or fortune he had not been considered an appropriate suitor. So he had left for the America's to make his fortune. Worried about scandal, a marriage had been quickly arranged with Lord van der Woodsen. Their union had not been a happy one, and when he had died falling from his horse while drunk, she had not mourned him for long. To society's great astonishment, Mr. Humphrey returned from the America a very rich man, and once back in England he had immediately set about wooing the young widow. With great scandal they had married within a year of Lord van der Woodsens death. Their marriage was a true love match and Blair had never seen two people so blissfully in love. When she was younger, she had often dreamed of a marriage just like the Humphrey's.

Lily blushed, her ivory cheeks blossoming with color. "Truth be told, marriage is not as easy as perhaps I have made it look. I do apologize if I have given that impression. When two strong individuals are joined together, there is bound to be conflict at times."

"The ladies magazines all say if one is obedient to ones husband great happiness can be found in marriage." Serena gave Blair a teasing look.

As Lily took a sip of tea, Blair took the opportunity to stick her tongue out at Serena. To her consternation, Serena only giggled in response.

"It's all lies. The secret to a happy marriage lies in letting your husband think he is in charge," Lily said with a laugh. Her tone quickly changed as she took in Blair's pale face. "Are you having problems in your marriage?"

"No, of course not." Blair shook her head decidedly. "It is just not…" she paused for a moment as she considered how much to say. "How I imagined it," she finished lamely.

"It never is, just give it time. You are newlywed only weeks. There is always a period of adjustment to every marriage, and I know with time whatever problems you are having will fix themselves. Especially judging from your very passionate and public kiss at Lord Grenville's." With a wink at Blair, Lily rose from her chair. "If you will excuse me, I will leave you girls to your gossip."

As soon as Lily had left the room, Serena rushed to Blair's side. "Since I know obedience is not in your vocabulary, I am assuming things have gone horribly wrong."

Blair avoided Serena's kind eyes. "Really, it's nothing."

Serena refused to be brushed off. Staring Blair down, her eyes missed nothing. While perfectly coiffed as always, there was a look of desperation in Blair's eyes that Serena had never seen before.

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be here." Kneeling before her friend, she took Blair's hand in hers gently. "If we are truly friends, than let me help you."

Staring into Serena's loving eyes, Blair found she could no longer lie. "I made a horrible mistake," she choked out.

"I am sure whatever has been done can be undone."

"No, that is where you are wrong. I have been cruelly tricked and deceived." Blair bit her lips to keep her tears at bay.

Serena's hand fluttered to her throat. "What has happened? From your letters you seemed happy with the Duke."

"It's true. I love my husband," Blair cried in despair.

Laughing, Serena threw her arms around Blair. "That is all? Why, that is wonderful."

Blair only shook her head as the tears began to fall. "No, he doesn't love me back."

"How do you know? Did he tell you that?" Serena started to bristle with anger for her friend.

"No, he told me he loved me," Blair sobbed.

Looking at her friend in frustration, Serena tried to comprehend what Blair was telling her. "You're not making any sense. "

"Of course not. You couldn't possibly understand." Blair attempted to rise from her chair only to have Serena yank her back down.

"Blair, start at the beginning and don't leave anything out," she warned, her voice brooking no argument.

"It all started with our wedding night. I couldn't bear the thought of going to bed with a man I didn't love, so I threatened him with a pistol."

Serena inhaled sharply, "You didn't!"

"Oh, I did," Blair laughed through her tears. "At an impasse we agreed to a wager where we would each try to get the other to fall in love. If he fell in love with me, I could kick him out of the marital bed; if I fell in love, I would welcome him into my arms."

"So what happened?" Serena asked breathlessly.

"He played me." Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "He led me to believe he was falling in love with me, and I was foolish enough to weaken towards him. He told me everything I ever wanted to hear. He made me feel beautiful and special, and before I knew it I loved him."

Eagerly Serena asked the question that was foremost in her mind. "Did you consummate the marriage then?"

Blair nodded, her face flushing.

Serena's mouth made a silent O. "What was it like?" Her face lit up with eagerness at the information she was about to receive. Like most young women she had been brought up in the dark concerning what happened after the wedding vows were said.

"It was perfect in every way." Blair's tears were falling faster now. "I can't even begin to explain how wonderful it was."

Serena laid her hand over her heart, practically swooning. "And he told you he loved you?"

Blair lifted her head proudly. "Of course. I wouldn't have given in otherwise."

"How do you know he doesn't love you? What has he done that you reject his declaration of love?"

Blair pulled out her linen monogrammed handkerchief, aggressively wiping her tears away. "Just this morning, I intercepted a letter from his mistress thanking him for a bracelet and asking him to join her that evening."

"But how do you know that he lied about loving you? Maybe he had no intention of meeting her."

Giving her friend a stubborn look, Blair replied, "How could he not? I am sure she is as beautiful as sin and far more experienced in bed than I. How could he not go to her?"

"But you don't know," Serena explained patiently. "And after everything you have told me, the Duke has made it clear he thinks you are beautiful; and if he wanted a more experienced woman in his bed, he wouldn't have worked so hard to woo _you_, his wife. He could have given up at any time and let you sleep alone until you died, but he didn't." Serena stood up and flung her hands in the air. "And since when does Blair Waldorf back down from a challenge? This woman is nothing more than a common strumpet, while you are his wife. The woman who he stared down the barrel of a gun for and decided you were worth a wager. A wager that left him just as vulnerable to love as you. Now that you have both admitted your love for each other, I am sure that he will dismiss this woman."

Blair fidgeted with her handkerchief, unable to look Serena in the eyes.

Serena's eyes narrowed as she regarded Blair. "You did tell him you loved him?"

"No…I mean, yes."

"Which is it?" Serena asked, frowning.

"I told him I loved him, but he was sleeping at the time," Blair explained sheepishly.

"How could you not tell him when he was awake?"

Blair looked down at her hands, twisting and untwisting her handkerchief. "I don't know," she whispered.

"I think you do," Serena said forcefully. "But as far as he thinks; you don't love him."

"But we made love. After that how could he not know I love him? He won the wager."

"No he didn't. You didn't tell him you loved him, did you? So as far as he knows, the day after he declares his love, his wife leaves him." Serena looked at Blair accusingly.

"But the letter?"

"What about it?" Serena asked stubbornly. "You don't know what his intentions were. You didn't stay around to ask."

"How could I? What if it was all a lie and he never loved me?" Blair shut her eyes tightly as if she could make it all go away.

"Then at least you know the truth, and you can face it head on instead of running away." Serena gave Blair her sternest look.

Blair tried to no avail to quell the acid feeling in the pit of her stomach. " I know it is customary for gentlemen to have a bit of fluff on the side, but I don't think I could bear it if he did. I love him too much for that."

Serena's face was lined with sympathy for her friend. "Not all men stray, and if a known womanizer like the Duke has told you he loves you, I would tend to believe him."

"Have I made a huge mistake?" Blair wiped away the last of her tears with her handkerchief. "I came here to forget him, but all I seem to do is think of him every minute, every second."

"Go home, Blair. Talk to him as you have talked to me. You won't regret it." Serena promised.

"I will, as soon as the carriage can be made ready tomorrow." Like the sun piercing through the clouds on a rainy day, Serena had given her hope. Maybe it had all been a misunderstanding and she had jumped to conclusions. Either way, her friend had given her the courage to find out.

* * *

Blair's heart pounded in her chest, beating almost frantically, as the carriage arrived back at the Devon Home. As she was escorted from the conveyance, she couldn't help glancing up at the windows, hoping to see Chuck's face. Instead, a very happy Mrs. Miller greeted her at the door. Blair bit her tongue to keep from immediately asking about Chuck as the housekeeper led her into the house, removing her traveling cloak.

"Did you have a pleasant journey, Your Grace?" Mrs. Miller greeted cheerfully, draping Blair's traveling cloak over her arm.

"Very." Blair waited a minute, trying to control her patience, before asking the one question she had had on her mind the whole drive home. " Is his Grace home?"

Mrs. Miller's face shadowed over. "I am afraid he is at Victrola."

Blair swallowed nervously, hiding her shaking hands in the folds of her gown. "Will he be home for dinner?"

The housekeeper hesitated before answering. "I don't think so, Your Grace. He wasn't expecting you home until tomorrow."

"Of course." She smiled sadly.

"Shall I have dinner sent to the breakfast room or would you prefer a tray in your room?" Mrs. Miller asked helpfully.

Blair's heart constricted painfully in her chest as she thought of who and what Chuck could be doing at this very moment. "A tray in my room would be lovely."

Mrs. Miller's sympathetic eyes took in her mistress's pale, wan look. "Would you like to retire for the evening?"

"No. I think I will wander the rooms down here a bit. Make sure everything is ready for the ball tomorrow. " Her eyes trailed towards the drawing and receiving rooms.

"All of your orders have been followed according to plan, and the refurbishment is completely on schedule to be finished tomorrow. And if I may say so, you have made this place a home worthy to be proud of."

"I couldn't have done it without my trustworthy staff." Blair smiled proudly in Mrs. Miller's direction. "Thank you."

The housekeeper bobbed a curtsey, her face lighting up with happiness. "You are welcome, Your Grace. If there is anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

Blair nodded, turning her back on Mrs. Miller as she wandered through the quiet, empty rooms. They were just as she imagined they would be, elegant, luxurious and tasteful. Like a ghost she moved from room to room, touching the curved edge of a chaise, running her fingers over a plump satin cushion, and straightening an ornate Chinese vase. Catching sight of the hints of purple she had added, she couldn't help the smile that briefly flitted across her face. She had so wanted to make a home for Chuck here. While once she had thought children would never be a possibility, now she longed for one. Thinking of hearing the sounds of children's voices, _their_ children's voices, echoing through the rooms, made her heart swell and ache. With a sigh a tear slid down her face. Brushing it away with the back of her hand, she left the drawing rooms and headed towards the ballroom. Already the gardener had started setting up elaborate floral arrangements that filled the room with a heavenly scent. Plucking a gardenia from one of the vases, she held the delicate blossom to her nose, inhaling deeply, and remembering the one Chuck had picked for her from the garden just weeks ago. She had been falling for him even then and she had thought he was falling for her. Had it all been a lie? Tucking the flower into her hair, she made her way silently back through the house to the ornate winding staircase. With each step her heart grew heavier, more leaden, as she realized how empty the house seemed without her husband.

Rose was waiting for her when she entered her bedchamber. Sweeping her mistress a curtsey, she took one look at Blair before bursting into tears.

"We have missed you so much, Your Grace. The Duke has been in such a foul mood without you."

Blair felt hope float up through her body at Rose's words. "He has?"

Reaching into her pocket, Rose pulled out a handkerchief, roughly wiping her eyes and blowing her nose before answering. "You wouldn't recognize His Grace. The morning you left he spent the whole day drinking until he was so drunk he had to be helped to bed. This morning he started drinking as soon as he got up and he left for his club shortly after tea, but not before smashing half the tea things. Mrs. Miller was fit to be tied."

"I'm so sorry. When I left, I never thought he would take it so badly," Blair was unable to keep a slight smile from peeking though her face. If he had spent the night drunk, it meant he had never made it to his mistress's place. It was possible he had stayed true to her and remained faithful.

"Please tell me you will never leave again?" Rose asked, desperation in her voice. "I don't think His Grace could take it."

Blair stepped in front of her vanity table mirror and, staring at her image, she began to unpin her hair. Rose quickly stepped behind her to finish the task.

"I certainly don't plan on leaving again anytime soon."

"I am not sure the staff can take any more comings and goings between the two of you." Brushing out Blair's hair, Rose readied her for bed. "You both need to stay put and make beautiful babies," she muttered under her breath.

"Just in case the Duke comes home tonight," Blair whispered to herself as she chose a white nightgown, trimmed with pink satin rose buds, to wear.

As soon as her dinner tray was delivered, Blair dismissed Rose for the evening. Sitting before the steaming beef and potatoes, she found she could eat nothing. With things between her and Chuck so unsettled she had no appetite. She was so very afraid that while he enjoyed the passion they had shared, he didn't love her. That he had lied when he had said those three words, eight letters. Giving up on dinner, she drank a glass of wine, parted the sheer bed hangings, and climbed into bed. Staring at the butterflies, she remembered the last time she had seen them; the way they had swirled around her in a daze of lust as Chuck pleasured her over and over again. Turning away, she reached out to his side of the bed, her arms finding nothing but open space. Grabbing one of his pillows, she curled up around it, holding it as if she could hold him.

Chuck stormed into the house, not even close to sober. He had spent the night at Victrola drowning his sorrows in one scotch after another, trying to forget Blair. The way her face had flushed when he kissed her, the way she had writhed when he touched her, the way her body had arched into his. He groaned as a frowning housekeeper met him at the door.

"Mrs. Miller, see that my bed chamber is readied." Chuck swayed on his feet as he made his way through the entryway.

"Would that happen to be the Ducal one or the one the Duchess is currently sleeping in?" Mrs. Miller asked, pretending to deliberately misunderstand.

"Blair…" Chuck shook his head as if he had misheard. "I mean, Her Grace has returned?" Hope leaked into his voice.

"Her Grace arrived shortly before dinner."

Chuck walked into the drawing room, and going straight to the crystal decanters, he poured himself another scotch, draining it in one long gulp.

As he turned around, he caught Mrs. Miller staring at him in disapproval. How dare she? His wife had left him, not the other way around. He would not stand for her censure one minute more. "You're dismissed for the evening."

With a stiff curtsey she left the room.

Chuck stared at her retreating back and his anger intensified. The whole staff no doubt sympathized with his bride, without even realizing that he was the victim. He had bared his soul to his wife, giving her the ammunition she needed to keep him forever out of her bed. And now, having won her little game, she was back. There was a time he had desperately wanted to build a future with her, and now the only thing he wanted from her was her tight little body. Wager or not, she was his wife, and since he was never going to be able to take another mistress, she would have to play the part.

Stumbling up the steps, he made it to his wife's rooms. Not bothering to knock he stormed into the bedroom. Looking at his wife's peacefully sleeping form like she hadn't a care in the world, made him see flashing bursts of color. Stalking over to the bed, he parted the butterfly curtains, his hot gaze taking in the way her white silk nightgown clung to every curve. His groin tightened painfully as he glimpsed a rosy nipple, barely restrained by the low neckline of her gown. He tried to fight the lust he felt and cut himself off from the power she had over him, but it was useless. As his hands reached for her, he realized he had lost control the minute he had entered the room. Lazily his hand slid up her leg, lifting her gown to her thighs, his body soon followed. Aligning her softness to his hardness, he realized that he would never be free of her hold over him. As she slowly awakened, his lips crashed over hers, stifling her cry of surprise. Anger mixed with yearning filled his kiss, and for a second she was still, but then in the next moment her tongue was searching out his.

In the past he would have been gentle. He would have kept his passions in check. But things had changed and she had betrayed him. He wasn't gentle now. Unbuttoning his trousers with one hand he was surprised she didn't struggle or try to fight back, but instead she undulated under him, rubbing her satin skin against him. Reaching down with his mouth, he captured a pebbled nipple as he wedged a knee between her thighs, parting her legs. Guiding himself into her, he almost sighed with pleasure when he slid into her hot slick sheath. Almost angrily he drove himself into her, filling her deeply, sliding out, then thrusting hard into her again. His fingers found her most secret spot, and he rubbed at the small nub lazily, ensuring her pleasure, even as he pounded into her.

Blair arched into him, her breasts teasing his chest as she pressed herself tighter against him. She moaned his name against his lips and began to tremble, and still he drove on, pounding, holding nothing back as he took what he wanted. She came with violent force, and still he thrust into her over and over again. Gripping her hips cruelly, he shouted out his release as he finally climaxed. Pulling out of her as quickly as he could, he left her panting as he pulled his trousers back on.

"Consider the wager over. From now on you will welcome me to your bed whenever I please," Chuck threatened with a ruthless smile. "And don't ever leave again because the next time I _will_ come after you."

With that parting comment he stalked from the room, slamming the connecting door between their two rooms shut. Standing outside her door he couldn't ignore the tightness in his chest, or the desire for her that still raged like a demon inside of him.

Blair lay sprawled out on her bed, trembling with aftershocks of pleasure that left every inch of her body throbbing. Their passionate and tender lovemaking was a distant dream compared to what had happened this evening. He had taken her in anger, barely removing their clothing, but beneath the anger there had been an almost desperate desire for her and it had stirred her own. As furious and bitter as he was, he had given her pleasure. He had turned her body into a raging blaze of fire, and in doing so she had discovered a secret part of herself; a wild, passionate part that craved every touch of his fingers, each burning kiss. She wanted Chuck, wanted to feel that scorching heat over and over.

But even that would never be enough. She needed him to love her, as madly as she loved him. Love her enough that he never looked at another woman as long as he lived.

* * *

Thanks to my awesome reviewers: aabbyy, hubbub, jsta, myosh, niinjjakiitten, EstrellaBass, batgirl2992, The Very Last Valkyrie, callmebluetoo, BassKingdom, QueenHoa, odyjha, itsolgatime, alma-gglover., Edwardslover09, SaturnineSunshine, sweetshorti868, Kate2008, Alyssa, KB22, ronan03, flipped, PattyWoods, uncorazonquebrado, BassBillionaire, popcorn, Charmander, guardian izz, RedheadObsession, TriGemini, smartin555, Carrie Black, Lil Miss Chuckles, , Myra 'Trory' Dork, abelard, Helen, Krism, -Melody of Words-, lulubelle2010, LisaLevine, dreamgurl, Effie, READER120, .beauty, Blood Red Kiss of Death, xoxogg4lifexoxo, Tiffany, xoxochuckandblairxoxo, NoFearOfChic, kousi, littlemissme343, PINKmarshmallowXOXO, wrighthangal, annablake, tvrox12, thegoodgossipgirl, LTSTTE, ggff-fan., HnM skinnys, :D, PacificRomance, Krazy4Spike, Bye11, blair4eva, SimplyShelbySJL, Infinitywr, nostalgiakills and Stella296.

Much love to my beta, Elli.

I have finished this story and will post the remaining chapters once a week over the next few weeks. :D I have also written the next few chapters of a new historical that I would love to post, but I am torn by the fact that I still have other stories that need to be finished. Should I work on finishing my new story or try and complete one of the old ones? I created a poll on my profile page and I would love if you would help me decide what to post next. Thank You.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: For Eli

Rated M.

* * *

Blair entered the breakfast room eagerly, her silken skirts rustling around her. Seeing the table set only for one, she bit back a cry of frustration. She needed to talk to Chuck. Seating herself as calmly as she could, she pasted a pleasant smile on her face as Mrs. Miller rushed to bring over a tray of fresh croissants.

"Has His Grace already breakfasted?" She asked as nonchalantly as possible, pouring herself a cup of steaming tea.

"Yes, Your Grace. He was up early this morning." Walking over to the sideboard, Mrs. Miller brought over a platter of fresh fruit for her mistress.

Frowning slightly, Blair added a croissant and several strawberries to her plate. She sat in silence for a moment, pulling her croissant into several flaky pieces, before asking the question foremost on her mind. "Did his Grace happen to tell you of his plans today?"

"He mentioned he would be at Victrola until this evening," the housekeeper offered helpfully. "But you could expect him in time for the ball."

Dropping her eyes to her breakfast, Blair tried to hide the hurt she felt. "One would think so, considering that he has several hundred people arriving at seven this evening," she replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

At the sound of an abrupt knocking, Blair whirled her head towards the door of the breakfast room. Eyes wide with hope, her heat fluttering, she gazed expectantly at the entryway, expecting to see Chuck. As the door opened to reveal Lord Archibald, her heart fell to her knees as if it was weighted with lead.

Nate glanced to Chuck's empty place and then to Blair's, almost as if he was surprised to see her there and Chuck gone. "Your Grace," Lord Archibald greeted with a small bow.

Blair inclined her head politely, trying to swallow the lump of disappointment in her throat. "Lord Archibald."

"You're home?"

"Obviously," she replied tartly, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. Looking into Mrs. Miller's frowning face, she waved her hand to dismiss the housekeeper.

Her rigid spine communicating her disapproval, Mrs. Miller left the room.

Wearily Blair took a sip of her tea. "Lord Archibald, I am not sure why you are here, but I have a million things to attend to and not a lot of time."

"What of your husband? Is he one of those things you have yet to attend too?"

"Please have a seat," she said as politely as she could muster, trying to ignore his rudeness.

Nate had the grace to blush as his lack of manners was brought home by her hospitality. Trying to regain his control of the situation, he frowned at her censoriously. "Your Grace, are you aware of the fact that your husband has spent the last two days drunk as a skunk?"

"So I have been told." With a sigh, she pushed her plate of food away. It was no use even trying to eat.

"Are you not in the least concerned?"

Suddenly a thought occurred to her, one that made her chest so tight she could hardly breathe. "Is he alone?"

"What?" Nate asked, looking at her like she was out of her mind.

"Is… he… alone." She drew out each syllable slowly as if he was speaking to a child.

"I…I don't know." He looked at Blair shrewdly. "Would it matter to you if he wasn't?"

"Why are you here again?"

Nate pointed an accusing finger at Blair. "Because my best friend is a mess and I believe it is all your fault."

Blair looked Lord Archibald directly in the eye, practically daring him to lie. "Who is Elle?"

Nate stared at her dumbfounded. "I…I don't know who you are talking about."

"If Chuck is a mess, it is all his own fault," she replied, with a small toss of her head.

"You know about Elle?" Nate suddenly wished he were anywhere other than the Bass residence.

"How could I not?" Blair buried her hands in her gown, digging her nails sharply into her palms. "She is my husband's mistress after all." Having spoken bluntly, she waited for him to deny it, spare her feelings.

Nate squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "This is highly inappropriate, Your Grace,"

"So is barging into my home, blaming me for my husband's actions. Why don't you ask him what is bothering him?"

"Believe me I have, and all he would say yesterday was that you had left him," he answered, with a cold look at Blair.

"Well, as you can see, I am home now." Blair returned his cold look with an even icier one. "Even though my husband is cheating on me with a woman named after a common letter of the alphabet," she scoffed disdainfully, finishing her cup of tea and pouring another.

Nate rubbed wearily at his temples. "I am sure that his relationship with her is all in the past." When he had arrived and found Blair alone, it had seemed an easy enough endeavor to confront Blair on her behavior, but he had never expected she would know about Elle or that she would have no compunction throwing it in his face.

Blair smiled tightly as she clenched the handle of her teacup so hard she was afraid it would shatter in her hand. "But you don't know…"

Nate sighed, a long drawn out painful sigh that would have made Blair pity him if it weren't for the fact he had come barging into her home. "I don't know for sure, but I do know that Chuck cares for you…. something I never thought I would see."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Then perhaps he ought to come home."

"Do you want him to come home?"

Blair glared at Nate angrily. "How can you ask that? Of course I want him to come home."

"But do you care for him?" He watched her very carefully. He needed to know if there was still hope for his friend, that all was not lost. He knew after watching Chuck drink himself into a stupor that his friend cared very much about his wife and her whereabouts.

Blair looked down at the heavy linen tablecloth, the solid silver eating utensils, her steaming teacup, everywhere but at Nate.

Nate stared at her, his eyes widening as he realized what she had left unsaid. "You do care for him." He smiled at Blair brightly. "This is wonderful news. I'm sure he cares about you too, otherwise he wouldn't be acting like such an idiot."

Rising stiffly from her chair, she shot Nate a commanding look. "This conversation is over, Lord Archibald. I have a million things to do today and you are wasting my time."

Scraping back his chair, Nate rose, offering Blair a small bow. "Of course, Your Grace," he said respectfully, even as his lips twitched with good humor. He finally had confirmation that the Duchess cared as much as the Duke about their marriage.

* * *

Blair stood coolly at the entrance of her home, awaiting the arrival of Chuck and her guests. Tapping her satin clad foot, she fumed at her husband, cursing him for not having made an appearance yet. As she heard the sounds of a carriage pulling up to the front of the house, she hoped that the occupant was Chuck. She couldn't bear the disgrace of being forced to greet all of society on her own without him. Just as she was about to give up, he strode through the door nonchalantly as if he hadn't a care in the world. Blair cursed him even as her breath caught in her throat at the handsome picture he made in his black dress suit.

Catching sight of Blair dressed in a simple white silk gown, her neckline dangerously low, Chuck fought the temptation to catch her up in his arms and kiss her senseless. His gaze raked over her figure boldly. The chaste color of her dress was at odds with its very seductive cut. His eyes were drawn to the V between her breasts, and it took all of his willpower not to shove her dress up and bury himself in her then and there. Instead he smiled at her coldly and took his place at her side.

Her face like stone, Blair ignored the crushing pain in her heart, the way her pulse sped up at her husband's presence. "Thank you so much for managing to show up at your own ball," Blair said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"After your actions, you are lucky I showed up at all," Chuck looked at Blair with a contemptuous expression that sent her temper soaring. "And that dress is scandalous. You look like a high-class whore. If it weren't for the fact that our guests are arriving at any minute, I would haul you upstairs myself and change your gown."

Blair smoothed her skirts, pleased that she could get under his skin. "But I had it made especially for tonight. I was hoping you would like it."

Chuck gave her an icy glare. "I loathe the damned thing, and I look forward to tearing it off you as soon as the evening is over."

"You won't touch this dress, and you are no longer welcome in my bedchamber after your little performance last night."

Smiling at her cruelly, Chuck locked his eyes with hers. "That is where you are wrong. I have every intention of pressing my marital rights now that I know my wife has no compunction for lies and trickery."

"You will find yourself staring down the barrel of my pistol if you even dare to touch me," Blair said with nearly seething rage.

"That toy gun," he scoffed. "You couldn't hurt a small dog with that thing."

Her eyes clawing at him like talons, she struck at the one thing she knew to be every man's weakness. "What I will be aiming at is so small…" Blair looked pointedly down between Chuck's legs," My toy gun shall prove most effective."

"You clever little witch," he chuckled nastily. Never before had he wanted his wife more. Her spirit inflamed his desire, and his body responded.

Counting to ten, Blair forced herself to calm down. "Please Chuck, can we at least be civil tonight? I don't want our estranged marriage to cause any more gossip then it already has."

Chuck stared at her with cold calculating eyes. "So there is something you want from me?

"Yes," she bit back. "I want a perfect evening, one that allows me to proudly hold my head up in the morning. If I can't have the marriage I want, at least I can take my place as society's leading hostess."

"What kind of marriage would that be then? One where I am forever locked out of your bed?"

Blair was saved from answering as the guests began to arrive. To her surprise Chuck stayed at her side, making polite conversation with their visitors. Wrapping his arm around her waist, his thumb every so often gently stroking her side he played the part of adoring husband better then could have ever dreamed possible.

As the last of the visitors arrived, just as Blair was finally starting to relax, she found herself facing a lovely creature with soft eyes and a bewitching smile.

"…And this is his lovely wife, Lady Elle Dewhurst," Chuck said with a smirk.

Blair froze as she was overpowered by bitter cold despair. The woman was more beautiful than she had expected. A suffocating feeling choked her throat and she found she could barely speak.

Elle swept Blair a graceful curtsey. "Pleased to meet, Your Grace."

"Likewise," Blair barely managed to murmur. Never before had she felt such seething hatred for another person.

"Congratulations on your very happy marriage," Elle said slyly, with a smile that cut at Blair's heart. "I really must commend you for being so patient while His Grace keeps himself so busy with Victrola. It must be hard to have him so frequently away." While her tone was soft, her meaning was insolent and challenging.

Reaching out, Blair took a hold of Chuck's hand, squeezing tightly. "Well, the Duke has always had his passing fancies, especially of the seedy kind, but they never last. Ultimately he always comes home," Blair replied sweetly.

Elle flashed Blair a barely controlled smile. She had expected a simpering wife, someone who would quickly bore Chuck. Instead she suddenly realized with humiliating clarity exactly why she had been unwelcome in Chuck's bed ever since his marriage.

Clearing his throat, Chuck looked at Blair in surprise. There was no way she could know about his past liaisons. A gently bred girl like her would not have heard such gossip, would she? Since Elle was married, he had made every effort to keep their affair a secret, but it must have gotten out. Somehow Blair had found out and he wondered just exactly who had told her, whose reputation he was going to have to destroy. He wondered briefly if he should tell Blair that it had all ended with his marriage and that she had forever ruined him for everyone else. As quickly as the thought occurred, he crushed it. She had stomped on his pride enough already. He would not allow her to have any more hold over him than she already had.

Thankfully, to her relief, the Dewhurst's moved on to the ballroom, leaving Blair to stare after them in hatred. "Really Chuck, if you have such little regard for yourself, at least think of me. She is barely a step up from the gutter. One would think you could do better."

Chuck stared after her in shock as she turned on her heel and headed towards the ballroom. Did she seriously think that he was still seeing Elle? "What about the rest of our guests?" he asked.

Blair glanced at the antique grandfather clock in the hall and then back at her husband scornfully. "Anyone arriving this late is of little consequence. I think you can manage the rest on your own."

"Blair—," Chuck started, only to realize she had already left the room. Cursing himself and her, he knew without a doubt there was unfinished business between them.

Stealing a flute of champagne from one of the footman's silver trays, Blair drained the glass in one gulp and reached for another. Swallowing that one also, she affixed a smile on her face as she walked through the many drawing and reception rooms, stopping frequently to chat with numerous ladies and gentlemen. Complimented multiple times on her exquisite taste and style in decoration it was almost possible to forget the aching hole in her heart.

Dressed in a Frederick Worth gown, Lady Grenville approached Blair. "Your Grace, thank you so much for your introduction to Worth. As you can see, he managed to fit me into his schedule, all thanks to you."

"I am so pleased, and I must say the gown looks lovely." The dress truly was a creation. Dark mauve, it wrapped around Lady Grenville in a way that camouflaged her dumpy figure, making her appear quite elegant.

"I can't thank you enough," she answered gratefully. "And I never thought to see the day when this house was opened once more. You have truly created a heaven of beauty and tranquility here. You have done the Bass name great honor."

Blair inclined her head proudly, accepting the compliment. "Thank you."

Leaning in, Lady Grenville spoke softly, her words for Blair's ears only. "I want you to know I don't believe a word of the gossip. The Duke is obviously very much in love with you. That kiss you shared at my ball was positively magical."

Blair was speechless as she stared at Lady Grenville. She suddenly realized just how public her relationship with Chuck was. That he had spent several weeks at Victrola soon after their marriage had not been missed by the ton. Racking her brain, she searched for a way to dispel the gossip about their marriage. "His Grace, with my blessing, has been very involved in getting Victrola up and running. It is a business venture I whole-heartedly support."

"Of course," Lady Grenville demurred. "I really do hope that you and your husband will be able to attend our next soirée. The prime minister will be in attendance, and I have been told that he is very much looking forward to meeting you."

Her goal of social and political dominance almost within her grasp, Blair couldn't help the triumphant smile that briefly flashed across her face. "Of course, His Grace and I would be honored to attend your next gathering."

Lady Grenville clapped her hands together in excitement. "That is superb."

"Now, if you will excuse me, I really have neglected my hostess duties long enough," Blair said with a small laugh.

"I understand completely, a hostess never rests." Lady Grenville gave Blair an understanding smile as she moved to let her pass.

As Blair walked by the card room she had set up in one of the salons, the players hailed her loudly.

"Your Grace must join us for a hand," Lord Hobart pleaded, his face already flushed with drink.

"Gentlemen, I would if I could," she offered with a sweet smile. "However, my responsibilities as a hostess and a Duchess interfere."

To her delight, there were several groans of dismay.

Lord Gray exaggeratedly put his hands to his heart. "You wound us with your refusal."

"I am quite sure you will manage to lose your fortunes quite nicely without me," she replied with a tinkling laugh. Leaving the men to their cards, Blair was surprised to hear Lord Ravenwood, one of society's crustiest elderly bachelors declare, "Damned fine woman, the Duchess. His Grace is a fool."

Upon entering the ballroom, she smiled in pleasure as her sight was filled with the view she had imagined weeks ago. Everything looked perfect. Crystal chandeliers, filled with hundreds of glittering candles, lit up the room. The wall of mirrors caught the flickering light, reflecting and refracting it, until the room sparkled like a necklace of diamonds. Watching the dancers swirl around the room in a waltz, she recalled with a heavy heart her own dance with Chuck just weeks ago at Lord and Lady Grenville's. She was so caught up in the dancing she almost neglected to notice her mother standing right at her elbow.

"Blair, if I might have a word in private," Lady Waldorf said with a disapproving frown that was completely at odds with her perfectly coiffed appearance.

"Now, Mother?" She had greeted her parents in the receiving line and had expected that would be enough for her mother.

"Well, maybe if you took the time to visit once in a while or respond to my letters, I wouldn't have to resort to accosting you in your own home," Eleanor replied with her special brand of sarcasm she seemed to save just for Blair.

It was true she hadn't written or called on her parents. The one thing about her marriage she had enjoyed was the freedom she had gotten from her parents. Blair sighed as her mother linked her arm through hers and started to lead her back towards the quieter reception rooms. Not wishing her conversation with her mother to be public, Blair racked her brain for a place where they could speak privately.

"Would you like to see the portrait gallery?" Blair asked pointedly, hoping her mother would get the hint.

"Why, I would love to."

Making polite small talk, they made their way to the gallery. Out of the corner of her eye, Blair searched for signs of her husband. To her dismay she didn't see him anywhere. She tried not to think about what he might be doing and to whom. Surely he wouldn't think to dally with his mistress here in his own home? With a sinking feeling in her stomach and a tight smile on her face, she forced herself to stay calm despite the dread she felt at her mother needing to speak with her.

Lady Waldorf swept the room in one glance, taking in the numerous richly painted portraits that hung from the walls and the comfortable chaises that lay scattered about. "What a lovely room, Blair. Are all these Bass ancestors?"

"Yes," Blair answered shortly, wanting more then anything for this conversation to be over.

Peering closer at one of the portraits, Eleanor cleared her throat delicately. "There has been talk."

"Talk?"

Her mother turned to look at Blair, her steely-eyed glance missing nothing. "Don't be coy. It doesn't suit you."

"What sort of talk?" Blair asked, her mouth tightening.

"Your husband has been spending most of his nights since your marriage at his new nightclub, Victor…something or other," Eleanor said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Blair's fingertips rose to rub wearily at her temples. "Victrola, Mother," she sighed. "It's called Victrola."

"It really is quite inappropriate considering it's close proximity to the Queen's name," Eleanor sniffed rudely.

Blair lifted her chin at her mother. "You can take that up with the Duke. I hardly have any control over his business endeavors."

"It seems to me you have little control over your husband at all." Eleanor tilted her head to get a better look at a portrait of a young lady dressed in regency costume.

"What would you have me do, Mother?" Blair balled her fists and shoved them into the folds of her gown.

"Obviously something different than you are doing now." Eleanor reached out to straighten the gilt frame of the picture she had just been staring at. "How are your relations with your husband?"

"Relations?"

Eleanor pursed her lips, giving Blair a stern look. "Are you welcoming your husband into your bed?"

Blair laughed, the sound hard and bitter. "Is that what this is about? Frankly, Mother, I think this conversation is at an end."

"What have you done, Blair?" Eleanor looked at Blair accusingly.

"Nothing," she answered with a small tight shrug of her shoulders.

"Then why is your husband spending his nights elsewhere?"

Blair flushed and with a flick of her hand she whisked her fan open, hiding her reddened cheeks. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Believe me I would, if I could find a way to properly do so. Instead I am forced to come to my daughter to find out why her husband is neglecting his duties at home. What has happened since the Grenville's ball? What have you done to drive him away?"

"Why do you always seek to blame me?" Blair tossed her head angrily in her mother's direction. "Perhaps it is him that is at fault."

"Whatever you have done, fix it and get him back into your bed," Eleanor commanded.

Blair thought of his last visit to her bed and she fanned her cheeks frantically. "What if I don't want him in my bed?"

Eleanor drew herself up to her full height until she was practically looming over Blair. "You selfish girl. Think of your family. Have you thought about what will happen to your father's estate without your heirs? The Waldorf name will be lost, the estate reverting back to the crown.

Glaring at her mother, she snapped her fan shut. "That is enough. I will not be treated like a brood mare."

"What other choice is there for a woman in our position," Eleanor asked in a thin voice. "It is our duty."

"I won't be nothing more then a vessel for my husband to plant his seed," Blair replied bluntly, ignoring her mother's blushes and slight cries of dismay. "I want more from my marriage than what you have with father. I want my husband to love and respect me."

Eleanor reached out to gently touch Blair's arm in an attempt to offer comfort. "Such is not the lot in life for women of our class. It is the way of the world."

"Then my bed will remain empty until I get it." Turning on her heel, Blair stalked out of the room, leaving Eleanor to stare after her in wonderment. So intent was Blair on escaping the gallery she missed seeing her husband lurking outside, a look of surprise on his face.

Blinking back tears of frustration, Blair fled towards the entrance hall her heels, clicking rapidly on the marble floors. Taking a moment, she held her hand to her breast, taking several deep breaths to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Heading towards the ballroom, Blair searched for Chuck. With each room she passed that he was not in, she felt panic rise in her like a flood.

"Your Grace?"

Blair whirled turned around to face Lord Archibald. "Yes?" She schooled her face into one of calm.

Nate gave her a short bow, unable to keep his eyes from gazing down the front of her gown appreciatively. "Your Grace, you look beautiful."

Blair forced herself to smile at him softly and ignore the aching pain that stabbed at her heart. "Dance with me, Lord Archibald?" Blair gave him a flirtatious look from under her thick eyelashes. She knew it was wrong to give him her first dance of the evening. That should have been reserved for her husband, but her heart was broken and Nate's admiration served as a soothing balm to her aching soul.

"Of—of course," he stammered.

Holding out his arm, Nate escorted Blair to the ballroom. As they took their places for the waltz, the music started up.

Embracing Blair closely in his arms, Nate searched for signs of Chuck. He had only seen his friend for a few minutes when he arrived. He knew that Chuck wouldn't appreciate him dancing with his wife, but if he wasn't going to make an appearance and dance with her, Nate would. Blair deserved to dance at her own ball.

"Where's Chuck?"

"Does it matter?" she murmured softly in his ear.

Nate swallowed hard as the heavenly scent of her perfume wafted up to his nose. "Don't think to use me to make your husband jealous," he said weakly, his voice wavering at her closeness.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Blair gave Nate a calculated look. "Especially not when he is most certainly sniffing around Lady Dewhurst looking for a handout. "

Nate shifted uncomfortably, almost losing a step at her blunt choice of words. "While there was once something between Lady Elle Dewhurst and Chuck, I am quite sure he ended it long ago, Your Grace."

"You forget. Please call me Blair." Her dazzling smile almost took Lord Archibald's breath away. "As for my husband's affair with the lady, I am afraid that they were still corresponding as of several days ago. She apparently was gifted with a sapphire bracelet recently from my husband."

Nate swore sharply. How could Chuck be such a fool? He already possessed the loveliest gem in all of London and yet he was continuing his dalliance with Lady Dewhurst? "I truly thought his relationship with Elle was at an end. I am very sorry, Blair."

Tears twinkled like diamonds on Blair's lashes. "So am I. At one time I really thought he loved me, but now it seems it was all a joke, part of his wager to get me into bed."

"So you finally did consummate your marriage?" Nate asked delicately.

Overcome with emotion, Blair could only nod.

"For once in my life I am truly envious of him." Nate lifted her hand to his lips. "He doesn't deserve you. You are the most beautiful woman in this room tonight, and yet he can't be bothered to even dance with you.

"Thank you, Nate."

Lord Archibald, noticing her eyes had lost a bit of their sparkle, decided on a course of action he normally would never have dreamed off. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear," Lets play Chuck at his own game. It won't take much to make him jealous. Pretend I am the most fascinating person you have ever met and I can guarantee within seconds Chuck will be here."

Blair looked at him incredulously out of the corner of her eyes, but in the next instant she gave in. Laughing gaily as if Nate had said something outrageously funny, she let him spin her around the room, her dress flaring up to show a scandalous set of perfectly formed dainty ankles.

Her laughter came to an abrupt halt as she felt a set of eyes piercing her like daggers from across the room. Turning her head, she felt a small shiver of fear as she saw Chuck, leaning almost lazily against the mirrored wall of the ballroom. She wondered how long he had been standing there watching. His eyes locked on hers, and the ferocity of the passion she saw reflected in them caused her to misstep and stumble against her partner. Thankfully, Nate held her so tightly she did not lose her footing and fall. Chuck did not wait for the dance to even finish before tapping Lord Archibald on the shoulder to interrupt.

"My wife, my dance." Chuck's voice while velvety smooth held a threat that sent chills up Blair's spine.

"Perhaps if you hadn't neglected your wife that would be the case," Lord Archibald answered smoothly.

While the music never stopped, nor did the dancers, the room held its breath as it waited to see what would come of this confrontation. Lord Archibald and the Duke's friendship could be traced back to their childhood. That they would ever become rivals seemed almost ludicrous. They had been best friends for far too long. That they should be fighting over Chuck's wife took society by storm. Immediately the room was filled with the hum and drone of hundreds of gossiping mouths.

Blair looked from Nathaniel to Chuck and for the first time felt that perhaps they had made a grave error in trying to make Chuck jealous. As Lord Archibald pulled her tighter into his arms, she realized that she needed to defuse the situation. She couldn't have a brawl take place at her very first party. The gossip and attention would kill her chances of respectability.

"I am so sorry Nate, but I am afraid I promised this dance to my husband." She hid her fury behind a sweet smile.

"My apologies." Nate bowed, winking at her as he slowly backed away.

Chuck swept her up into the dance, fitting their bodies close together, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, his hips against hers. Blair could smell his cologne; feel the strength of his shoulders beneath her fingers. Her heart sped up, beating a frantic tattoo. She remembered his kisses and his touches, and she almost swooned against him.

"My Love, you're playing a dangerous game." Chuck's voice while soft held a challenge she couldn't ignore.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

Blair raised her eyes to find him watching her. "Where is Lady Dewhurst?" she asked contemptuously.

Chuck studied her with a curious intensity. "Why do you care?"

"I don't."

Chuck tightened his hold on her waist, pulling their hips closer together. "Lord Archibald came to see you today. What did he want?"

Blair threw his words back at him. "Why do you care?"

Chuck clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together at her insolence. "I don't," he growled out.

"Enough of this, Chuck." Blair said, suddenly aware of all the attention their dance was gathering. Once more their relationship was fodder for the gossip mill. "People are talking."

"Of course, that is all that matters to you."

"It should matter to you too. It is bad enough that all of society already knows that you left me to stay at Victrola for weeks. Do you really want our marital relations to continue to drag the Bass name through the dirt?"

Chuck gazed at his wife possesively. "You will manage to do that all by yourself if you continue to dance with Lord Archibald like that.

"Are you jealous, Chuck?" Blair said, with a spiteful little laugh.

Chuck wanted to shake his wife until her pretty little teeth rattled. Instead, he did the next best thing. Crushing her small body to his, he lowered his mouth, and captured her lips with his in a possessive kiss. It was hungry and needy and communicated everything he couldn't. Plunging his tongue deep into her mouth, he waited for a slap that never came. Instead, she eagerly met him, kissing him back with a passion that left him breathless.

They stood in the middle of the dance floor oblivious to the fact that the music had ceased and people were furiously whispering and pointing. Finally, realizing that the dance had ended, Blair pulled away in embarrassment.

Chuck startled, almost as if he had forgotten where they were. Smiling wickedly, he winked at the crowd. "First lover's quarrel."

Everyone immediately started smiling and laughing. One of the gentlemen called out boisterously, "No more Victrola for you, Your Grace?"

Chuck turned to Blair, his dark eyes searching out hers as if asking her to play along. "Not if the Duchess will have me back."

Blair drew in a shaky breath as he smirked at her. With his words he had effectively turned the tables on the ton. He was attempting to control the gossip, by creating more of it. The crowd responded, eating it up.

Someone shouted, "Take him back."

Then a female voice answered drunkenly, "If you won't, I will."

Her cheeks on fire, Blair did the only thing she could. Chuck had given her a way to fix her reputation, stop the current gossip about him leaving her. "Only if he promises to behave," she answered cheekily.

Hooting and hollering followed as Chuck drew her closer to his side, his arm wrapping firmly around her waist. While she let him hold her, she knew that things between them were far from fixed and this was nothing but a show they were putting on.

They spent the rest of the evening together, Chuck never more than inches from her side. Blair watched Chuck warily for any signs that he wished to be elsewhere, like perhaps near Elle, but he happily acted the role of a husband suddenly found in his wife's good graces. As the evening wore on, they were kept busy with departing guests.

"Wonderful evening," declared Lord Waldorf as he pressed a gentle kiss on his daughter's cheek. "I am so glad the two of you have made up."

Lady Waldorf smiled proudly at her daughter. "The evening was a social success, even with your little scene." Leaning in to give Blair a kiss, she paused to whisper in her ear. "Well done. I expect we shall have that heir soon."

Blair bit back an angry retort, choosing instead to give her mother a thin-lipped smile. Chuck, as if sensing her turmoil, distracted her by reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on her fingertips to her parent's happiness.

As the early morning light streaked the sky the last of the guests left, and Chuck and Blair were left alone.

Chuck gazed at Blair with heavy contemplative eyes. "Thank you for this."

"I didn't do it for you," Blair said tightly, turning away from his gaze and heading up the stairs.

"Perhaps not, but I appreciate it anyway."

* * *

Blair couldn't help the small yawn that escaped her lips as Rose unbuttoned her gown and brushed her hair out

"A lovely party it was, Your Grace. And His Grace begging you to take him back? I never saw anything so romantic," Rose chattered, flashing her mistress a toothy grin.

Blair was too tired to argue as her maid lifted a fine blue silk nightgown over her head. As soon as she was dressed, she dismissed Rose for the morning and stood waiting by the settee. She knew Chuck would come to her, and she wanted to be ready for him.

It didn't take him long, within minutes he was in her room, dressed in a plush purple dressing gown. He walked towards her, two cut crystal glasses of scotch in his hand, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was naked underneath

"I thought you would enjoy this after tonight," he offered.

Blair gratefully took the glass, curious as to the taste. Ladies did not drink anything stronger that champagne or a glass of wine. Sipping at the smoky caramel flavored liquor, she almost choked. It was much stronger than she had ever expected.

Chuck watched her with an amused expression on his face as she slowly polished off the drink and set it on the small side table. Finishing his scotch in one gulp, he came towards her, and lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed each finger one at a time, then the palm, and finally her sensitive inner wrist. Blair shook her hand away from his angrily even though it hurt her heart to do so. "Even with your peace offering you are no longer welcome in my bedchamber," Blair said coldly.

"Perhaps you would prefer Archibald in your bed?"

"And what if I do?" Blair lifted her eyes to Chuck's in challenge.

With two steps he was behind her, his hot breath skimming the tender skin of her earlobe. "Then I will make sure you forget he even exists."

Blair's eyelids fluttered close as his lips brushed the sensitive curve of her neck. Barely able to breathe, she fought the heat that even now was turning her blood into liquid fire.

Tempted and weak with desire she whirled to face Chuck. "You waste your time, Chuck. Your kisses mean nothing to me. Not anymore."

Chuck arched an eyebrow at her. "So at one time they did mean something?"

She met his eyes coldly. "Go to your mistress, Chuck, and leave me in peace." The words, instead of being empowering, left her cold and empty.

"But what if all I want is my wife." He captured one of her hands and lifted her fingertips to his lips."

"Don't toy with me. I know all about Elle and your little gift to her."

Chuck's face went still, his mind attempting to process this new information. "And how would you know about that?"

"I saw her letter," Blair spat at him.

"What letter?"

She shrugged her shoulders at him angrily. "What does it matter now?

"It matters to me. What letter?" His voice while civil held an edge that made Blair's breath hitch in her throat."

Suddenly unable to face him, she turned away and walked to the widows to peer outside. "The morning after we…" she paused as the words stuck in her throat, "consummated our marriage, a letter came for you."

"From Elle?"

Blair nodded; unable to speak for a moment as she remembered with knife-like precision how she had felt when she read the letter. "She thanked you for your gift and asked that you meet her that evening."

"So that is why you left?" For the first time things finally made sense to him. He had wondered ever since he had overheard the conversation between Blair and her mother, but now he had proof. He knew that she had left not because she didn't love him, but because she did. Chuck took several steps towards Blair, until he was standing directly behind her. "Turn around, Blair." His voice was so gentle and so loving that she couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes.

"No, I won't," she choked out. "I don't want to hear you tell me how she meant nothing to you when you clearly cared enough to buy her a bracelet."

"Is that what you think? That I bought a bracelet for my mistress because I cared for her?"

Hearing the amusement in his voice, Blair stiffened her spine and wiped furiously at her stinging eyes. "Why else would you?"

"While I am very much enjoying this very lovely view of your backside," Chuck drawled. "I would much prefer to see your beautiful face. Turn around, My Love."

It was almost a command, and before Blair had a chance to think, she was turning around to face him. Tilting her head proudly, she met his gaze head on. Whatever excuses he had, she was prepared to listen to them, but she wouldn't give in. No matter how much she loved and needed him. She could not allow herself to be second best, a substitute for his mistress."

"I don't know what Elle wrote in the letter, but I can tell you that I did give her a gift. A parting gift of a sapphire bracelet." Chuck smiled down at Blair, his face soft and tender. "Having met your parents I am assured that your sheltered upbringing has left you unfamiliar with the rules of conduct between a gentlemen and his Cher Ami, but it is customary to end the relationship with a farewell gift. The bracelet was just that. A gift to end what had become an unsatisfactory arrangement."

"I see." Blair's voice was icy.

Chuck reached out to cup her face gently in his hand. At his touch Blair had to fight hard not to lean into the strength of his hand. "I don't think you do. I was tiring of Elle before our marriage was ever arranged, and once I met you I knew my relationship with her was forever over. When you met me at the bedroom door brandishing a pistol, I knew that I had been given a woman of passion and spirit. From then on you were in my heart, and before I knew what was happening I was madly and passionately in love with you, Blair."

"Things are over between you and Elle?" Blair was proud her voice didn't quaver when she said the other woman's name.

Chuck's thumb gently stroked the side of her face. "Before I ever met you, My Love. Ever since the vows I took on our wedding day, there has only been you. I love you, Blair." He sweetly pressed a fleeting kiss to her lips, almost as if he was afraid that she would turn her head away and refuse him.

As he pulled away, her fingertips traveled to her lips in wonder. She couldn't believe it was possible, that he could really love her. Time stood still around her as Blair searched Chuck's face, as if she could read the truth there. The walls she had built around her heart slowly cracked as she saw the love shining in his eyes. With a small sob she threw herself into his arms. Never before had she known such happiness, such lightness in her being.

"I love you, too," she whispered against his mouth.

As her lips found his, eager and searching, he kissed her back, soft and slow. She was consuming him, melting him from the inside out, melding his heart and his soul. God help him, he hadn't known such bliss and such peace could exist for him. His tongue ventured into her mouth in a light feathery touch. Breathing deeply, he twisted his mouth over hers in long, searching kisses, losing himself in her warmth.

Overcome with emotion he was the first to pull away, his forehead lightly touching hers. "I need you to know I overheard you and your mother and I owe you an apology for last night. I don't want our marriage bed to be some kind of obligation for you, a battlefield. I want you to come to our bed because it is what you desire, that you trust and love me."

Laughter bubbled from Blair's lips as she searched for the words to tell Chuck that sex with him was never a duty, only a pleasure. That she yearned for him and his touch with every breath she drew.

"Wait here," she commanded. Chuck watched in puzzlement as she rushed to her wardrobe, throwing open the doors. Reaching in, she pulled out a small wooden case.

"These were supposed to be a wedding present for you." Opening the box, she showed him the dueling pistols. "I bought them to keep you from my bed, but I no longer need them."

Chuck removed one from the box, feeling the weight of the pistol in his hand. Laying it carefully on one of the end tables, he made no move to take the box from her. "Thank you, but I want you to keep one. This way if ever I should stray, you have my permission to use it, ensure I remain faithful forever," he said, his lips twisting into a smirk.

"Don't worry, I won't hesitate to use it," she replied, her eyes sparkling with a promise that would have made Chuck nervous if he wasn't so madly and completely in love with his wife.

Chuck drew her into his arms and she clung to his shoulder. Being so close to him, she felt almost dizzy with desire. She wanted him, needed him so desperately.

"I think we can do without this," he said, his voice deep and husky. Before she knew it, her nightgown was puddled at her feet in a silken heap. His gaze wandered over her milky skin, rosy pert nipples, and the delectable dark curls at the juncture of her thighs. "Exquisite…there is no other word to describe your beauty."

"Chuck…" she replied unevenly.

"Can't you see how lovely you are? What you do to me?" He let out a shaky breath, his fingers tangling in her hair. "When I lay with you tonight, it will be because I love you. Because I want you. Because I desire you with every fiber of my being. Is that understood?"

Blair's eyes clung to his. "Yes." It was barely a sound, merely a breath of air.

His lips brushed over hers slowly in sinfully tantalizing touches. His mouth hovered over hers, teasing her with his restraint, and she slid her arms around his neck, bringing him closer. He fed on her lips; endless kisses that made her body soft and liquid. She couldn't repress a moan when he finally gave her the open-mouthed kiss she wanted, his tongue exploring hers with slow languorous strokes. He cupped her breast delicately in his firm hand, squeezing lightly until her nipple budded and hardened. His lips moved from her mouth, and he slid his tongue down the curve of her neck. Tasting the sweet and salty of her skin, he moaned into hollow of her throat.

Trembling with excitement, Blair reached between the folds of his robe and found to her pleasure that he was naked underneath. Her hands slid over his chest, twining in the thick hair. Each caress of her fingertips resonated with him, penetrating to the muscle and bone as if she was reaching into his heart. Her hands moved lower, grazing the sharp edge of his hipbone.

"Blair," he inhaled sharply. His hips pushed urgently at her as she touched his jutting manhood. Her sweet caress made the blood roar like thunder in his ears. He swelled and leapt in her hand, and as he watched her slowly smirk, he grew even more erect. He knew if she touched him much longer, he would surely burst. Unable to wait one minute longer, he gathered her up in his arms, chuckling at her small sound of surprise as he tossed her on the bed. Throwing his dressing gown to the floor, his mouth returning to hers, his skin rubbing deliciously against hers.

Their tongues met, heated and greedy. Blair shifted, bringing one of her legs around him, her mound rocking and cradling his hardness in a taunting rhythm. He could feel her; hot, sleek, and damp against him and it was beyond anything he had ever felt. His fingers slid between their bodies, fluffing her curls. Slowly he traced and mapped her slick folds as her body shook with excitement. The tip of his finger teased her with light strokes, until she became swollen and heavy with need. He circled her over and over again until she twisted and moaned beneath him.

Desire burned in Blair, brightly like a thousand suns. It was beyond bearing, and she was out of control. With a gasp she surrendered to the bliss that was already climbing up her toes and spreading through her belly. She clawed at him as the world shifted in its axis, spinning wildly out of control. When at last she lay still, he caught her with strong hands, lifting her, and settling her slim thighs over his.

"Ride me," he directed, his voice strained. His hands on her hips, he guided himself into her hot center. His hands slid around to cup her rounded buttocks. As he filled her thick and hard, she looked down at his swollen hardness as it impaled her silken sheath. Her hair long hair fell around them like a shining mantle of darkness.

With one hand she braced herself against his chest, her neck arching as a cry of desire was wrenched from her throat. She panted and writhed, driving them both mad. Rocking against him, she made love to him, moving up and down on his shaft, growing wetter and slicker around him with each stroke.

Propping himself up, his mouth captured a nipple, the soft pink bud contracting as he wet it with his tongue. He touched her then, where she cradled his shaft. Soft flutters over wet, pink velvet that had her jerking around him, greedily clenching, pressing, and seeking. He fell back against the mattress, watching her in the firelight. She was so beautiful, so perfect. Then he was surging up to meet her, unable to get enough, never enough. Their eyes locked and Chuck recalled the first time he met Blair, the way she had turned her head when he tried to kiss her, her steady hand when she had pointed a pistol at him on their wedding night. He had told himself what he felt then was passion, lust. That the only reason he had wanted her was because she denied him. Nothing had prepared him for the love that with each day grew and grew until all he could see was her. He needed her, needed her as he had never needed anyone or anything before, and instead of feeling fear he knew only that he was home.

"Chuck," she whispered." "I want…"

"I know, My Love." His thrusts quickened to meet hers, thighs and hips kissing passionately. Filling her, feeling her flutter around him, he lost himself inside her.

Blair gasped, blistering flames licking at her insides, burning her in sweet abandon. Hurtling towards the edge of cataclysmic bliss, she cried out Chuck's name over and over until she was breathless.

He remained inside her until she pulled away, falling against him in a limp heap. Nestled in the crook of his arm, satiated and exhausted, she felt him kiss her temple and then the tip of her ear.

"I love you," she said, smiling to herself when she heard him say it at exactly the same time. Shutting her eyes, she let sleep drape her as she was cradled in the protective circle of his arms.

Later that morning they lay together in bed, limbs entwined, and their breathing in unison.

"I didn't know love could be like this," Blair murmured as she painted kisses along Chuck's jaw line.

He smiled lazily down at her. "Neither did I."

"When I met you, I hated you. I swore to only ever see you as the enemy."

"I know."

"Who would have thought my enemy would become My Love?" Blair chuckled, the sound filling Chuck with a happiness he had never dreamed possible.

Rolling her under him, he proceeded to show her just how enemies became lovers.

* * *

I want to thank everyone for all their kind comments and PM's the last few weeks. I am sorry I didn't get this up as soon as I planned. I ended up cutting and combining the last two chapters into one. This story has been an amazing journey for me and I have learned so much. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As per the poll I am working on finishing High Society, but I plan on posting my new story as well.

Thanks to all my reviewer's: callmebluetoo, louloula, HeroesBonesSNPB, Lalai, Lovegood16, Charmander, Penelope, jsta, TriGemini, poochbello, IcingTheCake, batgirl2992, myosh, xxsapphirexskyesx, tvrox12, KB22, blair4eva, cakebakery, Joy, dk-fatale, itsolgatime, Kimalya, sweetshorti868, Edwardslover09, odyjha, dreamgurl, Blood Red Kiss of Death, Butterflies In My Stomach, Krism, Syrianora, .beauty, littlemissme343, ronan03, smartin555, wrighthangal, Carrie Black, xoxochuckandblairxoxo, Myria, Guardian Izz,, npigal, HnM skinnys, READER120, yueyuuko, PacificRomance, Penelope, , myosh, BassKingdom, LisaLevine, WriterInDisguise, flipped, lulubelle2010, ggff-fan., :D, xoxogg4lifexoxo, The Very Last Valkyrie, .Slater, NoFearOfChic, kousi, annablake, Bye11, niinjjakiitten, Stella296, popcorn, tonzia86, uncorazonquebrado, Krazy4Spike and Myra 'Trory' Dork.

Thanks to Eli for the beta and encouragement.


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